catyluvsyou

I wear boy jeans. It's true. Only I bought them by accident. But I wear them on purpose. I wear boy jeans and I think about girls They're dark, dark blue and straight (Not the girls, the jeans) Except for where they gather at my ankles Because I'm too short Or maybe boys are too tall. I'm not straight like my jeans. Except where they gather at my ankles, I guess. Only, I don't really gather things. Not at my ankles or anywhere else. I actually lose things most of the time. So maybe I should keep my keys And my promises and my spare change In the upturned cuffs of my jeans. Because, like I said, boys are too tall. Or maybe I

Do you remember that Christmas morning when Santa brought me my very first piano? "Now this is a miniature piano Christina." you said to me. It was really a keyboard. You put in the batteries, turned it on, and handed it over to me. You sat on the couch, waiting eagerly. I know you expected something beautiful. A child prodigy yourself, how could you not? You expected flawless melodies to echo throughout the house the minute my tiny little hands came in contact with those plastic keys. I was your daughter, it was expected, but... I sat down with the keyboard on my lap and banged my fists on the keys. I watched you wince. I took that keyboar