7 Attempts

I.

I used to tell the story of our first kiss as black comedy

But now I just say “who even remembers?”

II.

Your guard was up

I should have sensed

We cried and giggled in the darkness

And I should have seen it

You were safe

So fucking safe

I kept your reading

Its so fucking trite now I want to laugh at you

But there are tear stains on it.

And the top of the stairs in front of everyone.

And my cheeks red

And I should have seen it coming.

III.

Mortified by our act, I flaunted you

Which was more insulting, the revulsion I aimed at you, or that which I aimed at myself?

IV.

Sanctuary stairs wells and Basement Floors

How did you do it?

Even now I marvel at you. From my elder vantage point every action of yours was pure.

You toiled against me, against my insecurities. You pedaled hard beneath it.

I remember the color of wood on the kitchen table

And the cover of the the book you read your brother

And the corner of bathhurst and blore. And the apartment on 17^th and dupont. And buying cookies with you. And the way you felt when you hugged me for the last time.

In my dreams I write you a note telling you that I loved you the most.

In my dreams, you don’t remember who I am.

V.

“It was never you, it was me.” I say in passing

And you are too nice to reply sarcastically.

VI.

I was like a kid in a pet store.

But you were the Dog and I was the chew toy.

I would have followed you anywhere

Even after you spit me out.

VII.

You’ve shown me my weaknesses

And I hate you for it.

I’ve already ended it in my head

But if I let you fail

Is it possible to succeed?