You took me away,
Danced with me all night,
Gave me blisters on my feet.
I didn't realize they were there
Until we stopped,
An morning came.

It was then, out of the darkness,
That I saw what you did to me.

I don't remember kissing
you,
I must have made it up in my mind
We stood outside my front porch, hand on the ****
Your eyes wrapped around my belt loops, fingers wavering
I smiled and said "this is my stop"
Between puffs of cigarette smoke
The flies caught between door and screen
I waited but half a second, sad smile waning
Blood dripping into my glass shoes
Unseen,
Were the erratic poems underlining all my nerves
You reached for me
Hand on my shoulder, questions on your breath
My mouth answering back yes,
We're going to take this step
As you leaned in the angry voices in my head drowned out
By the music of your soul beside mine
But the spell broke, somehow
We'll never be entwined
And the secrets got out, somehow
Then you left me behind
So though I know we've kissed many times,
The first and last so vivid
The histories written in my fingertips don't recount living on your flesh
So I don't remember kissing
you,
Or how to return to a life without you in it.

I want to delete every ******* poem I wrote about you, but I can't bear to delete them, I'll just lose the memory of what it felt like to be in love.

I'm sick of this christmas music
The holy and tinsel and
The way my too-tired friends will jaunt around
Telling me the girl who stared them down in their first week at College was a *****, and the guy who never slept alone was trying to make up for the Lab he missed last Tuesday, and how they snuck a look at the group behind conformity buildings one and two on game night
Then we'll walk into the consumerist shops glitzed up, marveling at the sales, and we're broke, but I'll pay for you,
And we'll ***** and fit and smile tight because we missed each other we missed these outings we missed this performance we used to put on
We'll run out of things to complain about.
In the middle of World Market or Ross I'll sing a verse from the song on the speakers and curse when it cuts out for a cashier's announcement.
You'll groan and promptly leave me in the aisle.
Not entirely lost, but I'm sick of trying to find you. You never leave me in the store anyway.
There are children who witnessed our display.
One is lost and yet not lost like me.
"Hey!" I shout for you, for you'll come and grin to the child, not the fake teeth you flashed me bared, you'll ask if they need help, I'll sing them a song, and I'll carry them.
You'll find their mother, who will look at us as if to say "couldn't you have waited to return them?"
It's now dark and snowing and I can't drive. So I drag you to party city and buy something stupid I'll wear when we get to our other friend's party or your house for dinner, or the junior high to delight in misery and our mutual hate.
But I love you.
I love singing songs to you off key.
I love showing you my scars and letting you rip them apart.
This is my favorite kind of Christmas.