She’s with her now…I know it.
She even tells me so.
She drives me freakin crazy,
But I can’t let on as though.

Why is this one different;
To prompt a push of trust?
Risk is pain with people.
These things—they always bust.

Malicious to their core,
At least so long that’s how it’s seemed.
Will this one be so different—
This girl, she came to me!

It started slow with smiles…
And winks and subtle things:
A back and forth of messages
And hints at sound with rings.

Excited ambiguity:
“I wonder how she feels.”
We played the game:
“Do you…?”,
“How long…?!”,
And answers seemed surreal.

She’s into me! She wants me!
She cares, she really does!
Naïve is my perception,
And tomorrow still it was.

I know the truth; it tortures me:
This one—this other girl,
Am I so low as jealousy
to plague my head a twirl?

A teenage love—
infatuation—
truly names the day.
A superficiality
Time always fades away.

But still, I can’t help but think:
Are such pains not for trying?
Experience that must be had
Just once before dying.

…And those who claim
Have missed such fate
Surely must be lying.

A high school cap with summer love—
Now that’s nothing too new.

I see ahead
How this will end,
And yes,
It’s grim and blue.

But still, I must—
A bout with lust;
She’s got me,
So I’ll try.

I know
I’ll end up getting hurt;
It’s only a matter of time.

(But since when have I cared about time…!)

I want this girl—
She’ll hurt me…
Yeah, I know she will.

And, I’ll have this poem
To look back:
My gut-mop for the spill.

So when that fateful day come,
And part at last we must;
All will have been worth it,
For a young man’s
Try at trust.