Young Love (Mild Trigger Warning)

Young Love MLR

I’m going to tell you a story,

Of two teenagers in love.

This isn’t Romeo and Juliet

Nor Bella and Edward.

No, this is a cautionary tale

Of young love.

Meet the protagonist, M,

And meet the love interest, me.

M was a nice guy,

A tenth-grade boy

Who played the saxophone.

I was a nice girl,

A tenth-grade girl

Who played the trumpet.

When we started dating,

You could hear the smooth jazz,

The soft mellow notes that echoed

In the auditorium that we called

Our love.

Jazz that Duke Ellington

And Louis Armstrong

Couldn’t write down on paper,

Improv jazz that was sweet to the ears

And to the soul.

Then, things started to change

As we got a little bit older.

I wanted to do plays,

M insisted on being at play practice.

I wanted to learn German,

M insisted that that was stupid.

I took AP Classes and was at the top of my class,

M insisted that I write his essays for him.

I wanted to dance at prom,

M insisted that I sit and look pretty.

I wanted to go to college,

M insisted that I didn’t.

I wanted to have a career,

M insisted that I stay home.

M insisted on a lot of things,

Like kinky sex and my devoted attention.

M insisted on having a large house,

On a 10 acre piece of property.

M insisted on having four kids,

Two boys and two girls.

M insisted on having a German Shepard

And a very large gun collection.

He never asked what I wanted,

Which was an apartment in the big city,

A cat that cuddled close at night,

And no kids in sight.

But, it never mattered

What I wanted.

So, I molded myself to fit him.

I learned how to shoot a gun,

I learned how to catch chickens,

I learned how to keep my mouth shut.

Because if I didn’t,

It meant bruises

People couldn’t see,

Sex that was rough and dry,

And secrets that I had to keep to myself.

This was called love,

And I believed it,

Holding onto the jazz,

Until it became a memory

Of the good times.

Suddenly, our smooth jazz love

Turned into heavy metal,

Dark and harsh to the ears,

Threatening to make my ears bleed.

Metal that my grandmother

Said was the spawn of satan

And would damn me to hell,

Not knowing that this love

Was my personal hell already.

This continued for five years

And I’m ashamed to admit that.

It finally ended,

When he cheated

And married another girl

Two months later.

His baby was due in April.....

I’m convinced love doesn’t exist,

But I want to hope that it does.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8qdeny/happy_pessimism/e0j3vyi/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8qcn0k/the_abcs_according_to_me/e0j3qes/