I don't know what love is,
But what if I had to choose?

The boy who's younger than me,
Or the boy who's in all my classes?

The boy I've known for a few months,
Or the boy I've known for a year or two?

The boy I talk to once - twice a week,
Or the boy I only (might) talk to in science class?

The boy that knows I exist
Or... The boy who doesn't really think about it?

The one who whispers depression jokes under his breath,
Or the one who embraces murdering the teacher?

Both of these boys
Won't love me.

Both of these boys
Are bad choices.

Both of these boys
I don't speak to much.

I don't know what love is.
I don't have to choose.
I don't.

So why did I write this poem?