High school is where we met.
I broke down in those ***** bathrooms more times then I can remember. I cried silent tears on the bus more times than anyone’s noticed. But highschool is where I met you. You got left over coffee every morning and you dated my old memory and I hated your guts. And then you smiled that broken smirk you have and you wrote me poems. You kissed like the devil and you tasted like Friday nights freedom. High school is the place where your tongue slid into my mouth for the first time. It’s where we wrote poems and I handed you the gold letter and most arguably the place I fell in love with you. And I don’t remember our first kiss because there’s been so ******* many since then, but I wouldn’t doubt that it happened at highschool. It may not be the best four years of our lives, but it’s **** well the most important.

//
{k.h.}