A Memoir of Memories (or, A Lesson).

I wished I was the one with your dog tag perched in my cleavage,
Wrapped around my neck on a playful chain,
Like something that might be shoved between your teeth
Or tied around your toe one day was just a pretty thing that sparkled in the sun.

I remember how I learned about love.

I stared, I sighed, I waited and waited and waited,
And of course, like any other naïve princess,
Agreed to the first thing that came along.

He was perfect, he was pale, we were thin and happy.
That is, until he laid me down on a park bench in plain view,
And took what he wanted,
And no, not that.

He said the words at the end of a note, after a month or so.

I was blind.

Love.

He played hockey, he was tanned and strong and much more masculine
Than that failure of an abuser who had probably been abused.
That’s no excuse.

He said the words when I was hiding behind a curtain.

I felt nothing.

Love.

A musician, a perfect wonderful guitar playing, happy smiling musician.
I gave it all to him.  Yes, even that.

We danced, we sang, we stole away into the short summer nights
And spent those long summer days wasting away by the river.

I don’t remember when he said it.

I just remember feeling it.

Love.

Later, after four hookups later, and a terrifying, bloody breakup.

Love.

There he was.  Eating alone, with his dark hair falling in his dark eyes.
His olive skin, his half smile.

Love.

His phone number, his hands, the way he spoke so sweetly, so softly.

Love.

Five hours later, in his arms, falling asleep to his heart beat
Coinciding so perfectly with my own.

Love.

Fitting perfectly into his arms like no one else would never know
Or never knew how to hold me,
And knowing, truly, that he was the one who could unlock every secret.

Love.


 

Reviews

[Vitamin A]

This is a great depiction of a first love, of experience, and a life lesson. It tells a story with emotion, a captivating poem. Oh, the happiness and the heartbreak. I really enjoyed it.