Virgin Hurt

I was twelve years old
It was hot and I was wearing black 
Sitting outside the ice cream shop with a best friend 
Bitching about the girl across the road
You were wearing black too 
And chains
And I thought that made us equals
Friends even. In this neck of the woods at least.
For Christ's sake.
I was only twelve years old.

I didn't see you again till September. I was thirteen, just. 
I didn't think much of you at first. You played a game with the cousin of a friend, walking behind us. Scaring the first years.
But it was. 
What?
What was it then?
I was thirteen. I was so young.

At Fourteen I decided that you weren't worth the effort
I don't know which part of that sentence is more ridiculous
You not being worth it
Or that I was fourteen and my heart was 'broken'
Either way
I didn't want the trouble you caused me
My parents found the letter.

Fifteen years eight months twenty four days 
Ninteen hours
And eleven minutes.
And I love you
So bloody much
And every single time I think of you
A little part of me aches

It's a virgin hurt.
A blossoming bruise.
A fresh wound
With the promise of scars.