Not Possible Poem by Anya AlkayevVolkov

Sometimes i imagine what it will be like.
Pssh. not what it will be like. What it would be like if he and i ever had sex.
I have a feeling it would be like losing my virginity properly.
But i also think then the attatchment between us would be cement and i'd never be able
to stop caring about him.
See, i plan to just turn it off one day. One day, when i'm strong enough on the inside,
i'll just stop loving him. I'll stop thinking he's cute.
I'll stop caring what happens to him.
Until that day though, i'm hurting him, myself, and everyone who i love or may not be able
to grow to love because of him.
I've never even seen him naked.
What if i laugh?
Worse, what if he laughs?
Well it isn't going to happen anyways so, whatever.
But if it did i imagine it happening sort of fast.
Like we couldn't control ourselves. Not like we planned it.
I would come over when no one was home like always (i hate his dad)
we would be cuddling as usual.
Then we'd kiss, as usual.
But we'd freak out. Like we wouldn't be able to stop until we own each other.
It hurts to think about, it's very tangible.
When i think of him though, all i think about is his cute little nose.
Best nose in the world.

i wonder why sometimes, like that time in the summer, he keeps on kissing me.
And why does he pull the blankets over our heads?