Let’s count the almost-relationships

The ones to tell you how much I hurt

And where they used to touch

Hands creeping in thighs

Kisses being the best-worst memory


In counting I punish myself

I promise myself

The next one I’ll try

Still it is trying to try

My mind a carousel of your faces

Like sticks and stones that just hurt

And change me inside

I’m hardened at the core

“Are you a virgin is that why…?”

Er… yes.

I read my way into passion

At the end of every book I die

Wondering if I will be one of these women

Willing it to be more than a story

“so how is your love life?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to respond

To say it began at 5, may be 6.

I learned to love without loving at all

15 years ago

How I learned not to…

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