To be heartbroken for the first time at twenty-four

To feel what it’s like to have your heart slowly, ever so slowly, crushed

It’s battered with delicate bruises elicited from your rough hands.

Hoping against all hopes there would be a third chance

How does it feel to be the first one who breaks past all my defenses?

You come away with your stories and enchant me, albeit with all your pretenses.

I let you in, heart and soul, body and mind.

And you wreck me to millions and millions of pieces thousands and thousands of times.

If I had a wish, I would not wish to never have found you.

Because you taught me how life can appear so bright and lively.

But I wish to take back the insecurities and accusations I hurled one night a month ago.

Just so we could spend more hours lying tangled, cradled by your bedsheets

I wish I had borrowed your copy of 1984, whose cover is weathered by strangers’ palms. 

I wish I had pretended to forget to return your college card, when we sneaked into the park.

Just so I could see your face again, even if the trip lasts a minuscule, tiny slice of a weekend

I would wish for a thousand different things. Alas, those are wishes and they remain stirringly, achingly, merely dreams. 

Desperate, hopeless, wreckage, I said wait, too late

You’re halfway out. I’m sure you’ve got more choices downtown.

The ones captivated by your charm and man, those girls abound.

It is heartbreaking to imagine you have someone else to tell about your day now.

Now that you are gone and you have obviously moved on

No more drunken night calls or texts sent on a midnight roll

No more promises of movie dates. Our tale is just too bruised for a clean slate.

Swallowing my woe, I must, god must I someday, accept my faith.

I lie in bed, each and every night, every goddamn night,

Tears, sometimes angry, sometimes tragic, nevertheless all pathetic,

fall down, drop by drop, casting a shadow under my eyes, a plaster in my smiles,

and a deep wound in my heart, one which will always last. 

To be heartbroken for the first time at twenty-four

It does not hurt any less nor any more.