Switching from the parentheses to italics. One must give credit where it is due: the phrase “but I was dry and warm” was partially inspired by a verse from Smokeshow’s song “Fire”. If you want real poetry, stop dicking around on my site and check out their album “Bomb Songs”.

I was 19 years old and he 23.
I watched a sky of stars scattered with night
through the window of an old Mustang.
He asked to see me again.

I was 20 years old and he 24.
I tried to fight my way to love; I didn’t call the round
when my bones shattered, fists bruised, lips burst.
He told me to convalesce.

I was 21 years old and he 25.
A year without him had emptied me of tears,
the year of dreams and fears both realized.
I was a shell, but I was dry and warm.

Today, I am 25 years old and he turned 29.
I remind myself to mentally wish him well
while I sit in sunbeams on public transportation.
Next year, perhaps, I will have convalesced.

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