I’ll never be able to listen to The Beatles without remembering the first time.

You were short,
The shortest boy i’d dated.
But your adult-like charm stole my heart.

We lived near one another,
We had friends in common.
So, when you’re 14 that seems like a good start.

-

Time has passed,
So I’m not sure
How long we’d been together until it all lead to that day.

A few months
That seems about right. 
Remembering the times we went over to your house to play.

-

14 was young,
But where we’re from, 
it was pretty normal to drink.

Those younger years
Where you would inhale almost anything
Until your cheeks or puke would turn pink.

-

I don’t remember much,
Except the late night discussions
Of who would sleep in which bed.

You wanted me
To come into yours.
I was scared but from the drinks my brain was dead.

-
So I did.
My first wake up call from a boy.
Yet not an alarm I’d set, nor one i’d hoped for.

I closed my eyes.
I told you no. What are you doing. Stop.
But you didn’t. Grunting like a wild boar.

-

My  first.
My first of many disappointments.
My first of many times where it was simply easier to take it.
My first of many times feeling like that’s all i have.
My first of many times wondering how the fuck he can be having fun.
My first of many times closing my eyes and waiting for it to stop.

-

My first.
And from today on. My last.


Julia Bell
31.10.2019
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