First Regrets

I was young.
We were dumb.
That’s usually how the story unfolds.

In our case,
you were new to me.
And in a way, I was new to you,
we were lonely and craving each other.
Side by side bound, not by love or attraction, but
because together we could, and because no one else would.

We watched the sun set from the side of a roof,
standing, uncomfortable,
when it happened:
on the roof.
in the grass.
again and again.

Moments fade, leaving messy hair and the bitter taste of religion.
First we kissed, then we coupled.
Unsure how it happened,
obligation made it hard to say no.
Though I wish I’d known,
a kiss is not a commitment,

and morality is not a silken bond between the two. 

For days, we continued,
again and again.
Without good reason to leave,
though I had little desire to stay;

I was stuck, until I saw no need to explain.
We were destined to end as we’d started.

no way to reconcile
the connection ruined
by forsaken first regrets:
a chapter left unfinished,
on haste and sloppy firsts


Originally featured in Poetry Under Cover, a Medium publication

Marketing Student – Comfort-obsessed, plant-loving mess. Always trying. Continually coming to be.

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