I want you in my bed, not my teddy bear, that can't hug me back.
I want you in between my thighs, not my hands that can't tell me how I smell.
And your breathlessness must remain in my head.
My brain's a tangled mess of bibles and girls like you.
I want to be a lesbian, but my mom says people like that go to hell, and I become afraid.
But I don't know if I should 'cause it feels so good.
I'm at the age where I know what I am.
I'm at the age where I can't be what I am.
So I'll just lie in my bed with my hands down my pants, with you, the consent of god, and the age of 21 on my mind.