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Apr 2016
I was 5 years old the first time I fell in love
I don’t remember his name or what he looked like,
But I remember the feeling of flowers bursting from the earth,
Reborn
Determined to bloom into beautiful soft colors of pinks and yellows

When I was 10 I met a boy who lived in the sky
He could rip up houses and tear trees apart without so much as a blink,
But with that violence came a kindness like no other,
The Sun lived in him
He made me feel like the birds who soared high in the sky,
But in this fairy tale I was Icarus, and I flew too close
Unrequited love burned my wings,
And I vowed never to fly again

She was my favorite song,
She was the taste of lemonade on a hot day and the first spring rain
I was 14
I was 14 when I was swooped up into the arms of an angel
She swept me into the sky, holding my hand as we entangled ourselves in the vast constellations
Running with the Bull, swimming with Pieces
But when she let go, I awoke in a cold hospital bed,
It had been but a dream,
She had not come to save me, she was not my angel to keep

I learned to wear short sleeves exclusively and to follow my logic over my heart
No longer would I wear my softness upon my sleeve,
Love left a bitter taste in my mouth and coated the lining of my stomach where the butterflies used to flutter,
Poison floating in my lungs

I was 16 when he kissed my ****** knuckles
I was 16 when he broke through my walls like Odysseus and his Trojan Horse
Dragged me from my bed of broken hearts and dead flowers
He taught me to love, to grow once more,
Trying to save me when I did not want to be saved
I was not ready to love, I was a broken home,
Declared unsafe for inhabitants,

16 when you said to me that you didn’t understand,
That you thought we were on the same page,
But how was I to tell you that the last time I left my heart in someone else’s hands it shattered like hot glass
How was I to tell you I was made of steel and the warmth of your love only burned yourself


Studies in psychology say we do unto others what was done to us
I became the thing that had hurt me the most
No longer able to love freely,
No more would I allow my hands to become tangled in those of another lover,

I was 17 wishing to turn back the clock
Yearning for a hand to hold, but too scared to reach out and grab it
You told me you loved me,
And all I could say was, “thanks”
Sarah Gartner
Written by
Sarah Gartner  Chicago, IL
(Chicago, IL)   
568
 
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