Her

Crushing on a woman as a bisexual woman myself

Bold; she fills the room.

So young but worlds exist in her songs.

The stars would chase away the moon

to let her shine a bit brighter.

Hard to admit -  

my thoughts are closely knit.

I hide them away in a heart-shaped box

made of timber, made of black,

scarred by too many attacks.

Varnish it and make it gleam

until it seems okay again. 

But battle worn and endlessly torn, 

it has forever lost it's sheen.