Saturday, August 3, 2013

First Love (Poem) #31WriteNow

Random Guy I Photographed In NYC
The following poem was inspired by several women speaking on their first love via twitter. Please enjoy my personal thoughts.

I thought he was my first love.
He was the first one I wanted to give my heart to.
It was so pure.
It didn't know the pain of love.
Nor did it know the touch of lust.
It hadn't experienced the drama.
Missed phone calls on purpose
Ignoring text messages just because..
Nor had it experienced his wandering eyes
Him and Me
Me and Him
At the time that's all my heart saw.

He was my first infatuation
The first voice I wanted to hear everyday
The first person I didn't mind seeing all the time
The majority of my phone calls went to him
Sometimes they lasted a long time
Even if we just listened to each other breathe
Sometimes they were short and sweet
I thought hearing my voice would make his day
Although sometimes I took it further
I wrote seductive poems and called him up
Shared my deepest sexual fantasies
Hoped his mind would run wild
And eventually he'd act on his thoughts
But maybe I expected too much

Maybe it wasn't love at all
It felt like love
Because I couldn't explain why
And when I waited for his phone calls...
It was inevitable
He didn't like me as much as I thought
Being ignored by him is what created the doubt
But then when he started talking to those other girls...
My heart couldn't bare the thought
Why was he flirting with her?
Why'd he stop flirting with me?
Was it something I did wrong?
Did I give too much?
Too much of my time?
Too much of my energy?
Or did I forget to give something?
Not enough time?
Not enough energy?

Maybe my first love is still to come
Many years later
The list of men have added up
My heart's not so pure anymore
I now know the pain from love hurts
And lust is a woman's favorite enemy
Plus once the drama starts
Once he doesn't answer the phone calls
And texts messages go unanswered
And the first time he starts flirting with her
The doubt will creep in
And I'm knocked back to the beginning
Wandering if it was love at all.

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