Last night.

You messaged me on Tuesday…

though technically it was Wednesday morning

just after 1am.

You spelt my name wrong.

I thought I was numb talking to you.

You’re not like the last

but I guess

now it’s your turn.

We met up once,

a long time ago now,

we kissed

then like most things


in my life

you just seemed to stop talking to me.

Why was that?

You told me last night

how cute it must be

to still be a virgin.

How rare it must be.

I wasn’t sure how we got onto my virginity

or why others have an opinion

over something that is mine and mine alone.

It’s been almost a year

since we met up.

I’m not sure

why whenever we talk

it’s always after hours.

I no longer know how

you make me feel.

I don’t know if I like myself, I mean.

Because, you see, that girl,

who I was in August.

She’s been hurt since,

she’s been broken since,

she’s been promised fake things since.

Maybe she still is.

Point is, why should I

put my heart on the line


you can’t decided what you want.

You told me

how you’ve been sleeping around.

You think that makes me sad

because you hurt me

but it makes me sad

that you feel

the need to do these things.

Excuse me,

I’m a little rusty.

Never written about you before.

Let’s be real.

You’re one of two people I’ve kissed.

The other, well maybe

I’ll never be done writing about that.

I’m 5’4 ish,

I think

that’s a lot of hurt

for someone of my height.

How am I supposed to compete

with all these girls?

Is it because I said no?

Is that why you asked me out

and kept me up

till all hours this morning?

I can’t be the reason you want to change.

You have to want that all by yourself.

You were the first boy to call me sexy,

I was different with you.

You called me honest

which I always am with everything

-including, I hope

the way I write-.

You called me cute,

I get that a lot.

I don’t mind it.

You’ve struck something inside me,

but you’ve had all this time

to talk to me.

And now,

I’m good.


Maybe there’s potential elsewhere

though he probably thinks I’m a weirdo,

I like smiling again.

I like the potential

I’m seeing in myself.

I won’t speak too soon

but I like -maybe-

this girl.

Girl tired

after studying.

Girl broken

but ‘brave,’ strong.

Girl who may someday

be unfazed by people who hurt her.

You said that you thought of me often,

how sorry you were to have hurt me.

I told you it was okay.

I wasn’t lying.

You noticed me for a little while

-as most people seem to do-

then forgot about me

until you’re sleepy,

or alone

or turned on.

I’m not an object.

It was just kissing.

It meant a great deal to me.

Mostly past tense,

I don’t think you’re my future,

and I’m not yours.

It was nice for a while

August Girl says thank you.

Sorry you’ve ended up

as writing material.

I’m trying to learn new things

about myself.

I don’t think

you’re capable of waiting.

After a while

you might not even recognize me anymore.

I won’t be a stranger

but the smile takes a little more work than it used to.


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