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Creative Corner: “Too Good”

I’m too good for you.

You know that. I know that. Your mom even knows it. The second I walked through her front door, I think she half expected me to flip her off or dodge a greeting. When I pulled her in for a hug, she nearly cried.

You stomped up the steps to your room as I met your siblings downstairs. I knelt to their level and asked them about school, but they just asked me where you were.

How we made it here, I’ll never know. Perhaps I followed the familiar melody of indifference, danced to the idea that one day, I’ll become a singer and write lyrics that’ll change the entire song. But for now, we sit silent in your car at my university, staring at the street lights as you down another beer. We’re parked, but maybe you want the sensation of breaking the law by my side.

I’m too good for you.

I didn’t know that right away. I didn’t know that when I first saw your eyes on that dark autumn night; it seemed you were more timid than I with your soft voice. You were so shy, but you laughed every time I said something stupid, or acted a fool like I always do. You didn’t push me away or narrow your eyes when I accidentally tripped and grabbed onto you for support. In fact, you grinned like we were best friends; and you caught me.

Now I can’t even make you smile, and it feels like I’m falling all over again, this time without your arms around me.

I bite my lip and ask you why, why can’t we find comfort in the raindrops on the window and kiss to Jimmy Eat World with our seats way back? But you just laugh, because you want tattoos and dark lips, and

I’m too good for you.

I guess I mistook your intoxication for diffidence, and your lust for love. I guess I’d already hit my head on the ground when I smelled the liquor on your breath, ‘cause it wasn’t enough to send me running. If anything, I want to taste it now.

I grab the can, and I chug – you’ve never looked so in love as you shatter an empty bottle on pavement outside. 

I turn to you, feeling shards of glass deep in my heart.

When did we start moving so fast? And how — how did we crash?

I’m too good for you,

but it’s too late. I’ve already lost myself.


(Photo credit: Pexels / unsplash.com)

Originally posted on fortheloveofsammi.wordpress.com.

I am a Writing Arts major at Rowan University. Poetry is my best friend. One day, I hope to be a successful writer for a popular magazine in NYC. My dream is to travel to Paris, London, and Rome to explore and write about my experiences there.
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