Wishes of Girl Infatuated

He noticed the phoenix I drew for homework. 
He spoke, and the butterflies were in riot. 

Then I was standing in front, 
Blabbering in Spanish, 
Introducing history - 
Slightly shaking, 
Sweating from summer. 

Then a moment. 
He and his friends surprised, 
Pointing - 
To this wrist, 
These scars, 
These healing wounds. 
And I felt myself 
Drop. 

I wish I didn't remember 
The look in his eyes 
When he saw these scars, 
These wrists. 

I wish I didn't remember, 
The way his jaw clenched 
As he hissed to his friends 
Something I couldn't hear - 
As he motioned with his 
Index finger and thumb 
How a person - 
How I - 
Would cut myself. 

I wish I didn't remember how he frowned, 
I wish it didn't stab me with pain. 

And as I spoke in front 
About bygone days and colonialism and freedom, 
As I lost my breath 
And my voice, 
I wish he wasn't looking down, 
Except for a few moments 
Where his eyes would burn me. 

I wish he wasn't wearing 
That one earphone like he did 
When I saw him - smiling - in that morning sunlight. 

I just wish he'd sing again…