On the First Day

It has been six years
And I have only just  
begun mourning us.
 
Hindsight has never been so sharp
So harsh
So crystal.

You were the last time I had  
something to be proud of.  
Parade you around campus
Drag you to formal events
Attend your cabarets
Beam at the new poems about me.
 
Every man since you
Has pricked my dandelion petals
Watched the blood drip
And, like a reflex,
Asked me if I was alright
Not really caring either way.
 
And I have realized
My life is now divided by  
the role you played in it.
Before you, I was lost
After you, I am defective
I suppose that is my penance
 
For returning your letterman jacket
Tattered and worn
Or freshly cleaned
Or covered in lice. I apologize
That it isn’t in the same condition
In which it was given to me.
I loved it too much
And when summer came
Putting it on sucked the air out of me
I should have said something
But instead  
I continued to wear it
Until I saw all of our light go out.