My First
The eternal
My first kiss wasn’t mine -
it was taken from me, put on me,
stolen and imposed at the same time,
by someone I should have been able to trust.
My first car was the one that ran over me,
taking away my normality and the life I could have had.
My first poem was the one that was very private
but accidentally seen
and read aloud for the class by my friend,
who laughed with the others -
over me.
My first love was my solitude -
when finally I could be without everybody else,
just me,
living as I wanted,
without people attacking me.
My first thought in the morning is fear -
for kisses, cars, laughs, and people.
My firsts became my lasts, apart from
the fear -
the eternal first.
–
Issa