Tell me more about how she left you

How she walked away with a cigarette hung loosely between her lips

And her middle finger flying high

The way you screamed her name

And it echoed

Not because you wanted her to come back

But because you wanted it out of your system

Remind me of the way the fight started

Your parents were disapproving

And her parents didn’t care

And you wanted to keep a roof over your head

And she wanted to run away

To get away from more than just her house

Refresh my memory with your first date

The first, nervous, sweaty hand hold

New to both of you

The first time your lips touched

And the shockwaves that electrified the ground you stood on

Show me the last glimpse of the first time you met

When you spilled Mountain Dew in her lap at the movie theatre

And you looked up to apologize

But the only words you could hear were your mother’s, saying

“You aren’t supposed to look at another girl like that.”

“The bible says…”

“Dancing with the same sex is like dancing with the devil.”

“Keep those feelings to yourself, they’ll go away.”

“It’s just a phase.”

Then time stopped

And your lips and tongue unfroze just long enough to form words

“I’m sorry, you’re beautiful.”

She smiled

And so it began.

So tell me more about how she left you

But don’t forget the part where you left her, too.

This poem was first performed in a slam located in Boise, Idaho.