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Join me in this moment,
The time capsule of my mind.
When I said words that made you laugh,
The first night we met.

Come back with me
To the night that we were strangers,
With no intention of being anything else.
When every inch you leaned, made my stomach levitate.

Sit with me and reminisce;
When your hand brushed mine for the first time.

Back when you tried to be cute.
You picked up the whipped cream
To spray in my face,
but your depth perception was a bit off.
My nose only bled a little.

Come back to when it was innocent.
Before I got comfortable,
Before you got bored.

Back when you tried to be ****.
You lifted me up to the kitchen counter,
To kiss me, like in the movies,
And sat me on a full cup of water.
As the liquid soaked through my jeans
We couldn’t help but laugh.
  
When I was new, and you were new,
And neither of us knew where it would go.

Put your hand on my thigh and admit
That just because it did not work,
Does not mean it wasn’t love.
As a child, I tossed rocks at the birds in the backyard;
Laughing with my friends, aiming to hit them.
After so many misses, I never expected contact.

I slumped over to the tiny motionless animal,
Stared down at the carcass,
and swore, through tears, that I didn’t mean to.

Just like that moment

With your crushed heart in my hand,
Sorry does not mean anything;
I know.

I swear I didn’t mean to.
Someday I’ll write a love song
About someone who knows which buttons turn me on, and which ones **** me off.
Someone who pushes both.
I’ll write about all of the romantic gestures, and the realistic embarrassments.

Candlelight dinner; even if all he knows how to make is grilled cheese.
The accidental first **** that he’ll blame on the dog.
Someday, I’ll write a real love song, and I won’t leave anything out.
Every fight, every embarrassing moment, every “I’m sorry.”
All of the ugly parts make it real, and make it beautiful.

I’ll write a love song that Disney will reject.
About having *** too soon, and promising to slow down.
Some promises are okay to break.

I’ll write about the FEAR of losing what I didn’t even have.
A Real love song.
About insecurity stopping us from getting too close.
Real Love.
About only holding on once he’s already gone.
Regretting never saying “I love you”
Real regrets.

I’ll write about him leaving.
I’ll write about a drunken:
“*******! Why don’t you love me? I’m ******* awesome!”
Real.

I’ll sing it before I ever write it.
The next verse about sleeping.
For weeks that’s all I’ll want to do.
I’ll write about missing him,
Hating him,
Wishing we had never met.

Then, someday, I’ll write about getting over you.
In the end, it will still be a love song.
Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.
I like to play a game called hard to forget.
Rose petal lips wish for your attention.
Attention: tomorrow you’ll wish we’d never met.

Lean a little closer, and just give in.
Bust through that barrier, blocking your desire.
Feel the radiation as you touch my skin.
Our eyes magnetize, signing a single contract.

Your stone-carved face fills my vision.
Hesitate for a moment, entertaining free will.
That’s silly. Dropping that was a condition.
Your mouth’s warm breeze tantalizes my lips,
but we stay stubborn still.

Always and forever. I wrote in pencil.
Veracity in my eyes; “Baby, I can’t lie.”
Touch. Spark. Ignition. This fire you can handle,
You think. I inhale, to let out a siren’s sigh.

It’s too late now.
The spell has been cast.
I’ve infected your present.
You won’t be the last.

You’ll never forget.
Kissed me kissed me.
Now you’re gonna miss me.

— The End —