By B.K.
Date: 2020 Jul 20
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We were sitting on my back porch
Leaning into the door
Holding one another
While it rained
I had already decided
That I was changing boyfriends
The first time you kissed me
But that was not to be
I got mad at you
Because you said I was too young
To go to a dance at the high school
Ohhh I was mad
So then you wrote me this note
Asking if it was him I liked or you
Pick one
I lied
I said him
I think you set it all off
My temper and
My choice of all the wrong men
It was all your fault
We were childhood next-door neighbors
Just kids playing
Board games, cards, marbles,
Basketball, football, torture
Yes torture
Cowboys and Indians
I was the Indian
But it seems we both were shot
With life arrows
Today you were jogging
A motorcycle hit you
And your spirit flew away
And  now
I will not be able to tell you
After all these years
It was all your fault
That I lied.

The seventh of july twenty twenty