Poetry and All Things Alike

Gum

I can smell your breath on my lips like the
Night you held my hand in the
Dark of your living room, in the
Cold November, or maybe it was December
I'm not quite sure any more but as of
3 years, 9 days, 20 hours, 17 minutes and a billion gasps of air ago
Was the moment that I decided I was tired
Of your breath on my lips, and the way you held my hand
Or slipped your fingers in the loops in my pants
Where I probably should have been wearing a belt because
It would have made it harder for you to speak to me with
Your fingers

But it was cold outside
And snow was falling. I remember
Because you laughed at me when I decided that it would be funny to stick my tongue
On the pole of your trampoline
I can't quite remember loving you but I can remember saying it to you because
You tricked me into saying it first,
I remember your couch smelling like mildew and being scared to play Mario with you in your basement
Because I knew you would beat me.
I wouldn't let you kiss me because you asked
And the boy in my biology class was sitting across the table from us
Playing poker with the old men and collecting his coins with a smug grin
His eyes flashing back and forth from nickels to lips
I know him, he's a narcissist, but everybody loves him because it's funny
But forget him, he never wanted to kiss me.
Your living room was so warm, and I cried when you kissed the back of my neck because I thought my mom would get mad at me.
I hated you for sitting in the front seat of your dad's pickup
Not only that night, but all the time
And I hate that when I'm laughing with my friends I'll catch a wiff of your gum
And I wish I knew the name of the brand you liked
So I could ban it from ever convenient store shelf
Across the universe