i think
the dam was already broken
when you arrived.

i think it was waiting for someone to fix it
but all it received was band aids and glu tac and never a good repair.

didn’t you see the sign
before you enter?

“broken dam, don’t enter.”

so please.
when i say

“i’m broken. ****. don’t enter.”

don’t.

i wish i could go back to the first time i fell in love.
no hurt. no pain. no overthinking

it was going to a new place you don’t know the people around you. smiling as you walk the alleys thinking if this was where you’re supposed to be in that exact moment.

it was ordering food you never really tasted before but the reviews from your friends and family told you it was good. but not always good. sometimes it was bad. sometimes it was heavy. but you bite into it anyways. thinking it’s not so bad after all. something you could enjoy. something that could be your favorite.

it was getting an erasable tattoo. something that’s permanent but could be washed off. but u didnt want it to. you wanted it to stay. for it to be there on your skin forever. but slowly it starts to come off and you would want to get one again but it’s not the same feeling as you had it the first time.

it was the first time you learned how to drive. it was scary. the good kind of scary. you would want to drive it for miles. go to places you always wanted. playing your favorite song on loop. until the gas runs out and it did. it ended. it didn’t crash. but the excitement it made you feel, did.

they say first time’s always the charm. beginner’s luck. but even if i wanted to deny it. to forget that i ever did it. sad to say, i’m done with the first times. i was charmed but only once. and it never came back.

now love isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

you went back to the same place you thought was different; you thought was strange. now it’s the same alley you walk on almost everyday. nothing changed. but they way you see it did. it was dark and cold. the charm wasn’t there anymore.

you ordered the food you thought was your favorite. thinking about the reviews, good and bad, that was told to you and now you know why it’s bad. the charm wasn’t there anymore.

you had the same tattoo. same spot. same design. but now permanent. you wanted it to come off but it couldn’t. you thought it’d make you feel less alone. but even if the ink stayed on your skin till the day it turns to ashes, the feeling you had when it was still temporary wasn’t there anymore. you think of making it your own charm but the magic wasn’t there anymore.

now you drive the same car. you’ve been driving it for years now. it became a chore.

you drove down the alley this time. you got yourself your favorite food even if you’re sick of it already. you check on your tattoo wondering if it’s expensive to have it removed. you’re driving. wishing that one day, you could go back to the first time you fell in love.
because you’re hurt. you’re in pain. you’re overthinking.

people would
tend to excite
themselves
on the first exchange of
“I love you”s

but i’d rather
find myself hurting
in the future
waiting for that
heartbreaking text of
“it’s me, and not you.”