you hadn't spoken to me in four days
so i mixed enough screwdrivers and desperation
to mistake his strawberry blond hair for your black
and i can't remember saying yes or no
but i woke up covered in blood and bruises.
i patiently waited 23 years for love
and let solely your lips on mine
preserved for three in anticipation
only to give up in a grimy bathroom
to a boy with no last name
and a girl awaiting him upstairs.
life is not always a storybook.
later that night a girl sobbed on my bare chest
and told me never to trust anyone
that people will invariably let me down
that she wished someone had warned her
when she was like me
she said my wide-eyed naivete
was a bulls-eye
and i must not charge into battle
without armor and sword.
maybe this was a lesson i was supposed to learn
when you slurred it angrily last year
but my words are my white flag
and i've never been much of a fighter
so i'll start my breakneck pace towards heartache
with the exhilaration of foresight
and blinders for those with shields
until you cut me down.