my first love,
was flushed cheeks and foreheads pressed together
(you held my hand, asked me, is this okay? of course, of course it is)
our first real fight made me cry into my pillow and i had whisperedi'm sorry okay? even though I wasn't wrong because I wanted (needed) to fix it
(I don't care, you said, and I knew you meant it, so I went home and my fists were clenched the whole way)
my mother was starting to get worried when she found me with my knees pulled to my chest and my body shaking
(it's nothing, i had whispered, he's just... angry, he's just angry)
it scared me—more than anything, your anger scared me
our biggest fight was our last and i left with a bruised wrist and you had your head in your hands with your body angled away from me
and i shook my wrist at your face, yelled, look at this this is all you
(and i bet you were wondering how this all got so screwed up)
i was wondering that too
i still am
*exploit*
SANDD*