You had your chance,
to be with me at the fireworks.
I wonder where you are now.
Are you at home, on the couch
with your parents and your cat?
or, more likely, are you out?
You probably don't know where you are.
With some guy, I'm guessing,
tasting vodka off your lips
in a wet field.
But I don't know.
Because I'm alone.
Surrounded by women
beeping along the corridor
as I stare out my window
at the lights.
And I know
I should be leaving this all behind me.
But then again,
I shouldn't be here tonight.
I should be with you.
In your arms.
Seeing our future in your eyes
and counting down
to seal our promise with a kiss.
Like we said we would.
But you had your chance.
YOU ARE READING
HEAVY
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, Fee writes about their experience with mental illness, gender identity, relationships and finding themself as a seventeen year old.
