For when Im bored

My Garden State Girl

Titled: My garden state girl
Subtitled: (I Told a Girl this Poem Was About Her [When it Actually Wasn’t,] to Get in Her Pants.)

It’s almost like the second
I decided I was happy to leave Jersey,
she crept behind me
whispering and whimpering.
“Why?” she sobbed
as I didn’t return the grip
and I let her hand slide off of mine.
Just go.
It reminded me of when she told me
to “take it back” as she tried to
hold me one last time.
It gives me chills to even think about.
I thought that skin could somehow be thicker
in a different district
and that I could shake off the dust
of what I used to be.
None of them know what happened.
God, I miss her so much.
Both New Jersey and my favorite resident.
And it’s almost like the second
I decided I was happy to leave that girl,
my mind—pale and wintered into a bleak,
disgusting, frightening shell
remembered that she was my best friend.
My sweet, forgiving garden state:
I promise not to make the same mistake twice.
I swear on every exit sign,
I’ll never let you down,
and I swear on every evergreen,
I’ll never let you go.