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.
