she was your first.
your first girlfriend,
the first hand you held,
the first thigh you touched,
the first girl who caught your eye,
the first girl you felt with your
big warm hands,
she was your first love.
i, however, was your second.
you never did let go of her despise
saying you loved me and me only.
you swore you never thought about
her but i knew she was still on your mind,
i knew.
but like with most movie remakes,
the sequel is never as good.
and if i could change that,
you know i would.
she was everything you ever wanted,
while i was just enough for you to
tolerate, to use for a while maybe.
i knew i was nothing like the girls
you wanted.
oh how i wish i was them.
those pretty girls, the slender ones,
petite and perfect, the ones who
were always as pale as the moon.
you and i both know i have nothing
of that in me.
sometimes i sit and wonder maybe if
i was as pale as they were,
then perhaps you would’ve stayed,
perhaps you wouldn’t have chosen her,
perhaps i would’ve been perfect for you.
perhaps.
she was smarter than me, of course.
my intelligence never impressed you,
and i knew that.
the words that came out of her mouth
were always so proper, so clever,
so sharp.
and she was funny, of course.
i watched you smile and laugh at the
things she said.
you laughed as if she was the funniest
person you have ever met.
oh how i loved her witty jokes.
she filled you with so much delight and
joy while i watched from a distance,
wishing i was just as perfect as she was.
wishing i was perfect, for you.
oh god, you make it so hard for me to
compete.
