she said something rude to me so i yelled at her getting upset and walking off i began to walk toward the bridge and as i was entering the awning i saw lauren and tanner walk by i had headphones in and they smiled at me but i looked at them with such disgust and regret that i looked back and saw them standing dead in their tracks i motioned for lauren to come to me and removed my headphones i told her what was happening and she told me that the reason she treated me that way was that she loved and respected me but i shouted in her face BULLSHIT and kept walking across the bridge under the light of the moon and cheap Christmas decoration big trees waving in the wind light clouds in the sky while the river was frozen making a new terrain to explore by foot for the next six months by the time i made it to the other side lauren was chasing after me telling me SHE’S COMING ROUND THE OTHER SIDE TO TALK TO YOU THE CAMERAS WANT TO SEE THE CAMERAS WANT TO SEE but i was in disgust and i took a beeline down to the concrete down by the river when i saw from across the street and the overpass i saw her talking to andrew and they were screaming at each other incoherently but she broke free and made her way over to me when the lights came up and the cameras came on with some kind of game show host who introduced us to the crowd and she began talking but it all ended up with her kissing some other boy and i turned to the camera and begun to sing to the song “so lonely” while the audience cheered and it begun to rain on me
You were the type of girl who listened to Maximilian Colby and Moss Icon at fifteen. I met you because I wrote a series of letters on the internet to girlfriend I didn’t have and you had enjoyed them, later telling me you had seen me around at shows. We met up and I wore an Alexisonfire hoodie my sister had bought me for Christmas, wearing it around because I felt bad she had wasted fifty dollars. I removed my pins to wash it and my friends asked me if I rearranged them every day to look different. I just told them that I washed my clothes, and didn’t understand at the the time why they didn’t.
We rode the bus together to your house while your parents weren’t home. You played me some Cuff the Duke songs as we sat on your bed and talked. A week later you gave me a handjob and I came all over your Sons Of Daughters t-shirt. They aren’t a band anymore, and I didn’t know you still existed until I googled you and found out that you’re doing pretty well artistically but I have no idea how you are emotionally because your social networking websites are all private.
The last time I was in Vancouver, we exchanged phone numbers via email and had planned to meet up. I said I’d call or text you within the next few days. Two days later I was taking the train for no reason, back and forth, while listening to music and I received a text from you which read, “you’re a fucking asshole.”
At the time, I didn’t really get it. I look back now and I realize that I was an asshole and that I still am. That was a really nice shirt. You looked pretty in it. I always liked your smile, and how you tried to hide it when I made you laugh - but you couldn’t help it. We’re old now. I’ll probably never make you laugh again.
Wow. I just tried to actually sit down and write poetry for the first time in a long time. No theme thought about in advance, no direction. Was going to post it here but what came out was a lot more deeply personal than I thought it would be.
Tonight has reminded me why I want to do what I love.