Firsts

(wrote this one summer 05, found it recently and finally got around to editing it)

she looked at me with a confused face.
she just couldn’t understand why i felt so out of place.
something wasn’t right;
the stale, anticlimactic end to a long, crushing night.
she frowns and tries to forget what i just said;
gently pulls up the covers – this isn’t real: not this bed.
we’re just dreaming, see?
but what’s this headache staring back at me?
she’d like to forget it all, forget that i exist.
staring at opposite walls with the exact same wish.
we replay the events that lead us here together in our minds,
a silence overwhelms the room as the moonlight streams through cracks in the blinds.
i know it’s wrong, but, “i’m sorry,” i let her know,
she hates herself, whispers, “me too,” but she tries not to let it show.