First Love

I blame you
for making me feel “too much.”
A heavy weight on shoulders
conditioned me to love hard.
Caught me talking about our past to my new lovers.

The city
Breakdancers performing on the train
between 19th Street to Embarcadero.
Maybe because I mentioned I had guy friends who
copied my math homework
in exchange for advice,
rarely showed up to school
but were the first to tell me good morning.
And my girls’ love language was acts of service,
fighters not lovers.
Asked if their makeup came out nice,
the name of my lipstick shade.
Ate salads during lunch with me.
Maybe because I mentioned
spending time at the Berkeley Public Library.
Found it odd how it bothered me when Fat Slice,
this late night pizzeria, got closed down off of Telegraph.
That my Catholic church hosted a yearly festival,
and the priest would wake up late for mass.
How I never met passionate people
until I met people from The Town.
Tried explaining to someone “food do not slap.”
Debating that if your city isn’t on the BART map
you are not from The Bay.
How I would participate in my city’s Cinco de Mayo parade,
blisters on my feet from 23rd Street
to San Pablo Community Center.
They probably got scared because I said
my cousins were my best friends
and my best friends became family.
My weekends were dedicated to family gatherings
trips to Marin Headlands,
seeing the Golden Gate Bridge at night.
Alcohol and live music brought them together.
To think I would choose a family party than anything else.

They probably got scared because
I knew what love felt like
from my community.
Details that I fell in love with
from the top of that broken streetlight
to the BART rides,
to hittin Powell during Christmas
to first Fridays
to the Sideshows
to the free firework show on Main Street
in Richmond

I knew love was around me every time
I stepped out of my house.

I get why it didn’t work out
“too much”
Maybe they got scared
because they thought I would get attached.
How I never stopped talking about you
And maybe my flaw to them was
I am not able to let go,

I do not blame them,
It is hard to let you go,
You showed me love
Ways I never thought I needed
from people and places
to love me.
And for me,
I am used to unconditional love
of stories and memories,
to my first home,
to my first love.
You are with me wherever I go.

Everyone Carries a Shadow

Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.

To Sever

To love in perfect solitude is a privilege.