Boys I had kissed, boys I had missed. Boys, I had entrusted. This is a poem for you.
To the first I love you. I still remember the taste of your lemonade, soured mouth dancing with mine. Laughing at our frail innocence, as we looked up at the pale moonlight pondering why the moon is so shy, that he only reveals himself when everyone else is sleeping besides us.
To the boy that was always there during my breakup, I did love you. Never in the way had you anticipated, but if it came down to you and myself the bullet will enter my thick, wearing body and I will smile, my body coming down with a great thud. You being the last memory and the last person I, had ever loved.
To the boy that had cheated on me, screw you. And screw me too, because honestly nothing goes good with a guy who promised forever, when he himself couldn’t pinky swear at age five.
To the boy that I had a crush on, you are the definition of unrequited. I cared more of you and thought more of you than of me, yet you treated me like the graffiti that separated the streets we walked in as children.
To the boy that I call dad, I have neglected your very existence from the start. I am sorry, and I wish you would send me your cards again.
To my brother, I wish we weren’t halves. I wish we could meet, without bias, without the knowledge of being siblings, just the knowledge of being bonded by something.
To the boy I am currently dating, thank you. For loving me. For wrapping your strong, muscular arms around me. Your way of reminding me that there is still good in this world. For texting me at 4am, before I even get the slightest reminder that you are not with me. Lastly, for your lips connecting to mine, our connection galvanizes me by how even with the amount of perforation in my heart you still manage to make it whole again.