We met our befores before on the corner of Frederick and S. Fulton
Before me, there were a number of "shes" and he offered this information to me freely.
So I assured him, "Those befores, were before.
And I , I am right now.
BUT DON"T LOVE ME!
Don't touch me like you need me to like it,
Don't write me."
See, I didn't want to soil his pages with my truth
Muddy his life's memoirs with the likes of me
... but he did.
On the corner of Frederick and S. Fulton he questioned my fascination with asphyxia,
Couldn't understand how a battered woman asked to be battered in bed,
but he did it anyway.
So, I asked him
"Sketch my hands. Follow the roads that went wrong,
the paths I should have taken,
and those choices I didn't make that fucked me up anyway.
Follow those lines to something better than this,
to someone better than me"
... but he stayed.
My boyfriend knows I don't believe in love but he hesitantly told me he loves me anyway.
I confided in him " I have never known love without pain so hit me harder when you say it."
Right there on those cross-streets of lives
Crossroads of lovers,
Our befores crashed like head on collision.
Like, next stop suicide... or love.
Right there.
On the corner of Frederick and S. Fulton.