This is an ode to the boys who have hurt me.

I will not talk about the ones who came before the ninth grade,

Because although they have hurt me I would rather feel their pinch of pain than the ones’ I have become so accustomed to.

So here we go. Enjoy the ride, while I talk of the boys who have ruined my life.

Dear number one, I never thought it’d be you.

I never saw you coming or the hell you’d put me through.

I told you no but you were persistent.

Kissing my lips as if I hadn’t had them cemented.

Cemented shut to keep you out, but I was shocked by what you were doing and my guard fell down.

I still have problems trusting because of what you did, and I’ve learned that “No” doesn’t always go through boy's heads.

Dear number two, I really thought you liked me and I kinda liked you too.

Until all you used me for was a make-out sesh under the black and blue.

You stopped talking to me shortly after and I’ll always wonder “what did I do?”

Why wasn’t I good enough to keep the interest of me in you.

Dear number three, oh how you royally fucked me.

The first boy I’ve ever loved and you lead me on.

How I should have listened to them they were right along.

I hate that I still love you and I don’t know when that will fade.

I’m constantly swallowing that pain.

Dear number four, you’re the newest of them all.

But I can feel us starting to fall. To lose interest. I’m sorry boy number three has all my attention.

Dear number four I can still never be myself around you and every five minutes we seem to argue.

Dear boys who have hurt me I’m still aching in pain.

And I know I’ve lost parts of me I’ll never regain.

 

(This is not a traditional poem about free

but rather my free of trusting again and how I'm still learning to deal with it)