Fum


Anis told me
We all wanted that high school sweetheart
and I guess he was right.
Because when you said you loved me,
and I - naively, irrationally, illogically -
didn't say it back, but instead,
quoted a saying about poets,
no doubt, once remarked by a poet himself,
I knew you wanted me.
And I wanted you, too.

I thought I had misspoken,
when you said I love you
does not mean
I want to be with you forever
in high school.
It did, you said,
and in that moment,
though you could not see my heart pound,
I was terrified I had ruined what we had.
What we were just getting started.
I was wrong.
Thankfully.

I told you so much about myself that day,
more than I have ever trusted anyone with.
Yet, I barely knew you.
I had childhood friends, which, to tell the truth,
have never known the first thing about me.
Have not once bothered to ask
what it is that makes me tick.
What I am thinking, what I need help with,
what honestly brings tears of joy to my eyes.
Few people have ever asked
what my favorite color is,
but I have always had an answer.
Blue.
At least, it used to be blue,
but I think that makes me prejudice
against the other colors.
The equally beautiful, unique hues.
So it's not blue.

I hope I didn't scare you away,
because I want to get to know you.
To know the straw that breaks your back,
what makes your heart race like never before,
what makes you question your sanity.

I did not recognize the beats of the butterflies' wings,
nor did I ever consider my cherry blossom cheeks
were not flushed pink
from the forty-four degree temperature.

There is more to me
and I am certain there is more to you,
and Anis told me to
Shake the dust to
Rock out like these were the last words.

Those were not the last words.
That was not the last time I will see you.
But this will be the very last time,
I question what my heart feels,
because you could never bore me.

I'll let you win our next game of Scrabble.
Maybe.

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