Homeroom Sweetheart

Bleached blonde hair,
Round full cheeks,
Straight white teeth,
Girl of my dreams.

I am the boy with sore thumbs and eight broken fingers
Roaming the fluorescent-lit hallways of high-fives and firm handshakes.

Around the sharp corner,
The long forever bends,
We crash into one another,
Two hearts congested by lustful sin.

Do you remember when I kissed your neck,
You swallowed my soul?

I drank your spit,
You taste like gold.

I watched your shining green eyes turn to coal.

You were a mishandled diamond with razor edges.
I was a bottom feeder, a knot in the dredges.

You got good grades, while I hardly passed on the good days.

Do you remember pulling my hair and biting my lips?

I remember pulling you close by yanking your hips.

Passing handwritten notes on rained-soaked days,
Pools of puddled words that drowned my faith.

Do you remember clinching my back and gasping in my ear?

I remember you losing your breath and your silent tears.

Two supporting parents, a loving sister, and home-cooked dinners.

I was invited to the table, and in silence, I surrendered.

Lost was I, but you mustn't forget that a broken home with half-filled cereal bowls and water-down milk was the backbone of calcium growth.

I was bent and twisted,
broken and glued back together.

But you were perfect as the buried sun, engulfed in stormy weather.

My beautiful mistake.
My ugly memories.

F*ck you.
I love you.

These High School blues I wouldn't trade for heaven's eternity.

I hope you're doing well,
You will always be a part of me.