PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I remember the summer my identity became patched on me like my own personal Scarlet letter. I sat in a group of people. People that the only thing I had in common with was age. And I didn't say a word. Somehow I still managed to attract two men. By my looks alone. And while, I am incredibly disgusted by that, I needed to know I had something men were attracted to. Even something so shallow.



Anyway, it didn't pan out with either of them. We were in different stages of our lives. They wanted to party; I had overgrown that stage long ago.



I remember the last time I saw one of them. It was several years later. They were taking the same college class as I. By the second class I got up the courage to talk to him. Yes, talk. Even though we barely spoke before that. And by the next session, he had disappeared. As if my speaking to him made him drop off the face of the earth. I wish I knew why he dropped that class. Because to this day I think it was because of me.