My first relationship resulted in multiple heartbreaks back to back. A year of finding and liking and being with someone is a roller-coaster of emotions, especially if it is your first relationship. In my case, this was made even more dramatic by the circumstances under which this relationship occurred but I’m sure everyone thinks their first relationship was uniquely dramatic. During the extreme points I wrote poems to deal with everything. It was originally supposed to be a present as me and the person I was with parted ways, to let them know how much they meant to me. But then it turned into an explanation of the last year, of what I went through, of why I went through it. Now it’s a reminder of the girl I was and why I’m not her anymore and why in many ways that is a good thing. And why, in part I owe it to the first people to break my heart.

Cover Photo Credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/29297680@N00/8751714575">We are proof that love is not sweet</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">(license)</a>

You joked that you were addiction

as a I fiend for

The pad of your fingertips

Somewhere

Anywhere

on me

All those innocent

Caresses

Playing phantom

On my stomach

And arm

And spine

And legs

And

It all seems less funny

I think it’s more you’re contagious

The want

Trapped underneath your skin

Having sunk into mine

Have my nerve endings

Whispering it so constant

It keeps me

Strung

Almost as tight

As gray-space

Where innocence

Borders on desperate

And

All the music

Trapped in my throat

Pressed against my teeth

eeks out against my will

Cliché

To turn me into

Instrument

Have me near

Begging to be played

Again

Again

Again

To

Pluck strings

So tight

That when you pull too hard

They snap

Breathing hard on my neck

When you could feel me near snapping

Or hardly noticing

As you babble on

hands whispering need

Higher

Harder

Faster

Against the place where my legs slide together

The edge of those incredibly short shorts

Gray space growing black

the back of my eyelids

slipping into view

hands

Sweet talking my thighs

So thoroughly

I almost don’t stop you

All so

Friendly

Mostly

Just

The few moments

where

want

Claws at my skin

Making me

Twist, writhe

Not sleep

All so friendly

Mostly

Take the voices back please

I grow tired of their demands

It’s the maybe

The maybe that could have been

If I had just

If I was just

An almost jealous

A happy for

But sad

So

Sad

So much

“Please be with him”

Because it was never gonna be me

So much

Never

In all of this

So much

Getting over

Things

That never existed