It went by too fast

My mind’s left in a blurry vision of

The bus stops, alleyways behind his house, garages

And I walked home a worried girl

“If you say anything, I’m never talking to you ever again, later.”

On the stage, before practice the next day

I screamed and it echoed back to me

More painful than having a bullet to the stomach

I crawled to the corner, 

Behind old coats of past secrecy

Around a broken mirror

And I sat there crying

“God, what have I done, what have I done?”

Until she came up to me, the play’s “social worker”

“Liz, tell me what’s wrong.”

So I told her of what I did,

“He’ll dump me. Colton’s going to be so mad…”

Swish…

“Who’s there?” Curtain swaying, she ran off to the theater black

“Oh God…” I muttered to myself

I sat back there a while wondering

Sniffing old stage dust, finally brushed off and crawled

Lifting my knees above the glass and looking at my red face

I crawled behind the path behind the red cloth

And I heard them speaking…

What she said, I don’t remember: what did he say?

Nothing… nothing at all, 

The corner he was standing in was black

(Crossed arms, swollen eyes, forgive me)

Light flickered into a cold, hard strand on her

She ran off, not looking at me, only into her hands

Weeping, but why?

I looked at Colton…

“Colton…” I was being overly dramatic

I couldn’t tell reality from fiction, only a nightmare

“I am sorry…" was all I could squeak out

Pause

“We’ll talk later,” he brushed by me, away to the stage

God, please not be out of my life too

I broke down against the wall

“Why God, why me? Why… why…”

Why, it’s the hardest question to answer

I blame myself, for his pain, for mine

I was supposed to be a terrific girlfriend

His first girlfriend

Instead I slapped reality into his face so bitterly and so harsh

I fear he won’t want to love again

What’s worse, it was a week before Valentines Day

What kind of selfish yarn am I?

If I scratch away at my wrists now, with a broken mirror bit,

Close my eyes, and slit!

Please God; don’t let the memory be of the pain,

Of what I did, don’t let it replay,

Of Colton in the corner, of the tears

Of my unwell, egotistic soul