• nichole posted an update 6 years, 6 months ago

    I think about how you may have been a trigger
    I never quite tripped.

    You took me to the place
    where your family buried your horses,
    a wide patch of land surrounded by
    dying trees and yellowed grass,
    and we talked about things greater than ourselves
    and we walked a little more.

    I don’t think I would have loved you,
    despite the kindness you showed me
    that only seems clear in hindsight;
    you were damaged and bright
    but you couldn’t crack me.
    You gave me copies of Bukowski
    and we spent most of our time
    listening to music and sleeping,
    curled up in your bed in my underwear
    and I never once let you get close enough
    to slip underneath them.

    I never wondered if it bothered you
    that you couldn’t stay with me,
    that we had to drive three hours
    to get to your place, and three hours
    back to mine. My roommate’s husband
    didn’t want men in the house, I told you,
    which was true, but I don’t think
    it would have saved us, anyway.

    If I couldn’t get to know you
    in those three hour drives or
    playing pretend in your parents’ house,
    I hardly think we had a chance at all.

    I didn’t learn to like Bukowski
    until a few years later, leafing through
    the book you’d given me. He said,
    Find what you love and let it kill you,
    and you may not understand
    but I did just that.