That Dark Haired Girl You Dated

by January 19, 2024 0 comments

I see you now and my heart flutters.
Memories of your long, rich hair sticks to my memory as they used to cling to my hoodies.
My bible sits idle; thoughts of you cross the cover,
the words within demand a personable truth from me.

We believed.
I stumbled into the youth room and you said ‘Hello’ in a way that made my arms numb.
Afterwards, we hung out.
We made out; in depth.

We worshiped together.
You showed me other spirits;
I showed you I could only believe on the simplest of levels.
You showed me dogma;
I showed you a schwag roach.

Two decades later we emerged from similar paths;
finding lovers and partners in the comely corners that addicts inhabit.

Known, albeit hidden, pain stayed on top of us,
like a summer storm on the horizon.
We didn’t escape the storms we were born into.

The ones that engrained faith in us,
were conditional lovers.
Casting our most precious commodity,
as their own to gain.

Now we are made to sympathize and empathize,
but we barely understand.
Thanks a lot, faith.

– Sam Snider

editors note:

That first love hurts the hardest; hoped for, not seen. – mh clay

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