He threw candy at me.
I whirled around, annoyed.
He laughed that singsong laugh.
I couldn't help but laugh too.
Rules and regulations
tied our hands back.
Do not touch.
Do not look.
Do not kiss.
First date?
"Yes, but
do not kiss
and do not touch,"
Mom demanded,
solemn look in
her eyes.
"Mom,
he's a
good guy.
I know him.
I really like him.
We won't kiss,
I promise, but
please know
that I trust
him."

I grabbed his hand first.
He hugged me from behind.
We danced and sang in public.
We were a beautiful mess.
But awry things went.
Heartbreak.
Fighting.
Silence.
Hate.
"No."
A kiss
on my cheek
turned to five.
I told him, "No."
He pushed himself
as if I said nothing at all
until I had too much. "Enough!"

It wasn't the rules and regulations.
It was my heart and my feelings.
Something was wrong,
and I didn't want the
touching and the
kissing and the
hugging and...
He. hurt. me.
I trusted him.
He. lied. to. me.
practically all the time.

Should I have loved him?
I could've loved him.
I almost loved him.
He said I love you.
I didn't believe it.
He said "Stay."
Commanded.
Demanded.
As if I was
under
his
control.
Bitterly laughing,
I guaranteed him I won't.
His eyes turned dark,
but his voice
continued
pleading,
"Are you sure?
Please, baby,
come
back
to
me.
You are
my everything."
Deep in those eyes
lied the truth, and
I knew this was
not what love
felt like.
"No."
"*******,"
he said, seething anger
laced his once-sweet voice.
"**** it. If you want to go-"
I nodded, "Yes."
He said bye.
So did I.
'Twas
the
end.

sitting in my closet
is one of my last memories of you.
ratty, beaten jacket
and it smells like you.

of the better days.
of walking hand in hand
of laughing shamelessly
of exploring, eating, kissing.

of the worst days.
of throwing our hands up
of crying hopelessly
of hiding, screaming, cursing.

it smells of you,
my home.
it smells of you,
my lover.
it smells of you,
that jacket, my jacket
which wraps me up
in so much
love and
too much pain.

you. are. gone.
yet
trapped
in the seams of fabric.