My first ever taste of love was for a girl with messy hair,
And a sweet, genuine smile-
A girl that I yearn for,
That I shared a redamancy with,
A girl I would give anything to get back to.
I fell for her as if the Earth had stopped its rotations,
And my knees couldn’t help but fail me;
And in turn, she too fell for me.
My first love was a girl with a laugh
That was as spectacular as the finale of a firework show,
And her eyes shown just as bright.
Dear God, they were beautiful-
She was beautiful.
Although she didn’t always believe it,
She smiled and thanked everyone who complimented her,
Because it made her love herself that much more.
My first love was a girl, and for that, we received quite a bit of hate.
We weren’t in a relationship per se,
But the society around us disapproved of our affections;
And at first, she didn’t care.
We didn’t care, but the stress seduced her, and she started
To bite off so much more than her precious self could stomach.
It overwhelmed her and pushed her away, and she took off on me,
A runaway bride fleeing the scene
That she had so carefully put together.
I still wait for her to return.
I’ve found new love, but I need her as well—
Without her, I’m never going to feel completely at ease.
I just miss her so much;
I miss her open mind, her voice, her optimism.
I miss her gorgeous hazel eyes that never stay the same shade,
The ones that portrayed her innocence like stained church windows.
I miss her smile, her laugh, the connection we had,
And I miss the girl she was before she let those around us
Poison that beautiful mind of hers.
I hate that I took her for granted.
I hate that I let her slip right between my fingers,
Hot sand slipping out of my shaking hands and burning me in the process. I feel her everywhere- I see her in the innocence of children.
I hear her voice in every early 2000s song she used to adore.
I see her in every picture from her childhood I catch a glimpse of.
I see her in every pair of blue jeans that I own; she haunts me.
I see her in every window I see that reflects back at myself.
I see her in every passing mirror, see who she is now,
And occasionally I catch a glimpse of her innocence in my eye once again. My first love was a girl, a girl with messy hair and hazel eyes-
A girl who, at one point, shared my name and face.
Ever since she left, I haven’t looked the same;
I haven’t been the same.
Before I let anxiety take her place,
Her charm was impeccable and even I loved her.
Once upon a time, I loved a girl who shared a body with me-
I loved myself, not in a self-centered way, but in a humble, lovely way.
I wait for the girl that I was before I fell apart every day.
I wait for her and I keep my heart under the highest security;
I keep my smile intact, just in case she’ll come back,
To make the curve of my lips completely genuine once again.