Foetus.

She tells me she is pregnant,
At least, that’s what I
think she said.

I wasn’t listening,
Well, not to her anyway.

I had a book open in front of me,
and the TV was on.

I was somewhere else,
my eyes fixed on static.
Or at the words, invading the page
like ants.

So, when she tells me.
I just nod.

Like I care, or at least,
like I heard her.

She may have started crying.
But, to tell the truth

I was so high,
I couldn't even remember her name.

But that thing inside her,
the um, foetus.

I guess it was mine.

I had to say something,
So I told her that I’d cheated on her.

With some girl I met in the same park
where I met her.

Or fucked her, or something.

She screamed at me,
Slammed the door.

I didn’t see her again,
Until after the car accident.
She was asleep,
or in a coma.

I stared at her for a few moments,
Like maybe I was
about to cry.

But her family were there,
and I felt uncomfortable,
So I left.

I never went back.

She died a few weeks later
I didn't go to the funeral.

I didn't think it was important.

It's not like we were in love.
Or anything like that.

Limits.

Yeah I gave her a black eye.
That's my problem.

I wanted to destroy her.
Or maybe myself,
or whatever.

She didn't even flinch,
her face showed no emotion.
So I hit her again.

It doesn't mean I loved her any less.

I wanted to keep on punching her,
until she was no longer recognisable.

I wanted to keep on punching her,
until she could no longer speak.

Not that she spoke much anyway.
She just stared at me,
vacant, stoned.

So yeah,
I gave her a black eye.

It doesn't mean I'm a misogynistic arsehole.

I just get bored easily.

Snapshot.

I remember that picture she sent me,
of her chest.

She must have been sixteen.

I was old enough to know that
it probably wasn't legal.

But I jerked off to it anyway.

A few minutes later
I recieved another photo.
The camera was angled between her open thighs.

It was blurred, like maybe it was a snapshot
from some unknown foreign movie.

I stared at it until my eyes watered.

Trying to find something,
that was probably never there.

At that point there was
nothing between me and her.
Just her skin and my skin
Almost touching...

My beating heart,
and an image of her.
Captured forever.

It was as close to fucking her,
as I ever got.

Fucked.

I fucked up. I know.

I probably should have given you a ring.
Spending all my money on
alcohol and cigarettes

is no excuse.

The ocean still reminds me of you.

So, I moved as far away as I possibly could.

I still remember that last night,
In your car.

You were wearing your purple dress,
I was smoking far too much.
I still do.

We drove north, found the river.
Camped for the night.

I wish we could have kept driving,
never looking back.

The city behind us. No regrets.
I tried, without you.

A week later I had to come back.

My guitar strings broke,
I still can't sing in tune.

That night, it rained.
And we held onto each other,
naked under the blanket.

As waves crashed beneath us,
I slowly pushed myself inside you.
You smiled, as I kissed your neck,
kissed your breasts.

Maybe it was perfect.

I guess all I want to say is,
I fucked up
and I'm sorry.

I know that it's too late.