I read a blog post
That I had written
Years ago
It was written
The night of my first kiss
And it was titled,
"The best night of my life ever"
I can say now
That it was probably not the best night of my life ever
But it was a good one
I remember it well
The fast pace of my heart
The whirling of my stomach
The smile plastered on my face for the whole week that followed
Prompting my mother to ask what the hell was wrong with me
That sunday in october
Years ago
Was the first time
I had ever felt butterflies
I wrote about it the night it happened
Eager to document my excitement
That sunday in october
Is a night that I still write about sometimes
I have kissed
Many lips since then
I have had hands touch me
Explored bodies
In ways that my 13 year old self
Would cringe at
I am much older now
But some days
I feel like time hasn't passed at all
Some days
I have to remember
That this body is not the same
It has played house to so many men
That I often forget who it belongs to
I am not the same person
That I used to be
I have had so much happen
Since then
So I wonder why
I am still writing about my first kiss
How it is the only memory
Since then
That I don't want to erase completely
My innocence was lost
Not long after
So I keep rewinding to that night
Continue playing it back
Back to spinning objects instead of bottles
For the chance to be kissed
And a moment of infinity
It's funny
How one of my fondest memories
Is a sunday in october
When the boy I liked
Touched his lips to mine for the first time
It's funny
How I still think about it
After so much has happened
After so much time has gone by
I am almost a completely different person
Than I was back then
But I still need reminders
That I'm not that girl anymore
I still think about her
I still write about her
I wonder
If she ever wrote about me
And who she thought she might be
After so many years
I still keep her blog up and running
For the sole purpose of reading it
For the sole purose of reflecting
On what was important back then
And what will always be
She wrote about her first kiss
To be able to remember it
I am writing about it
To keep her alive.

This is something
She cannot hide.

Love lost.
Time spent.
The rhymes of the heart spoken.

Two souls fought
To save themselves.
But were they lost
Along the way?

Scars seem healed.
Nothing but paint to cover.
Promises broken.
Trust shattered.
Left to bleed.

A tangle of fear,
Of muffled calls
And dying hope.

She couldn't sink far enough
Into the ground.

Crack
Crack
Goes the heart.

It's all he can hear.
Resented is the reaction.
He coats it
With lies.

He can hear nothing.
Nothing at all.

She's forced to sleep
With screams and cries,
For this is something
She cannot hide...

She believed.
He lied.

As the name implies
It would look quite sweet
Red wings, red lips and
red felty things on her feet.
A red dress with sash of course
done up in a big red bow.
Red curls flowing from a crown
No hang on, no she's not in panto.
She is not the wicked witch of the west
or some heavily done up dame.
No, she just looks after things of red
Everyone gets confused over her name.
No she cares for the rose and stuff like that
She flies around early morning blossom
No dont mis-judge this little red fairy
Like Mrs Bradshaw is for the scarlet geum.
The Red Fairy is the fairy of the poppy
To her the nicest red thing in the place.
She'll get her golden ticket for this of course
when she meets her maker face to face.

I wanted to write a poem about how I felt.
I sat there with a pen in my hand
And a blank piece of paper.

I then realized that was exactly how I felt.
And I was done.

Stop looking for someone to settle you down.

No.

Meet someone to stay wild with

And *run.