Romeo and Juliet

When I was 14 I fancied myself 
in love for the first time.
At 17 he had much more experience
with love than I did.
He looked every bit as forbidden
that I knew he was.
Tall, dark haired, and at the time
I thought quite handsome.
Leather Jacket, muscle car, and
cologne that set my body on fire
when he kissed me.
He held my hand in the math
class we shared and around the halls
of our high school.
He would promise me his love
as he placed a kiss on my neck
before I got on the bus and then
he would laugh at my rowan cheeks.
With every kiss and every touch
he marked me as his.
When I tried to pull away from his
smothering love, my Romeo crafted
a chain and bound my soul.
When his hands started to roam too
low as he embraced me, I told him no.

But he laughed and did what he pleased anyway.

With every kiss and every touch
I realized my Romeo had been Tybalt
in disguise all along.
He was simply an honorless villain.
He trapped me in a tomb of insecurity.
I had no need to borrow his dagger,
I had my own that I used to try
to carve his claim of me 
out of my skin.

My love betrayed me in more ways than one.

Once he tasted another girl's poison
he was gone.
I was free.

I fled the catacombs of my grief
and misery and swore to never let another
man lead me back to that place.
For years I never spoke about him,
never thought of what happened,
I feared it would bring me nothing
but trouble.
I vowed to never again give my heart
so freely, lest it bring me more woe.
Never again will I be Juliet
looking for Romeo.