Had Loved

By: DJ Hopson

With the phone against my ear I stuttered.
Words would not come fast enough.
You doubted me. I doubted me.
You asked if I had loved him.
Had loved him.
Loved him.
Him.
If love kept a schedule with arrivals at 2a.m.
and departures at 9a.m. with frequent cancelations,
than yes.
You made me realized the truth I had been
denying my heart because it had already broken
and I thought that one more crack might break
it clean in two.
The myth of love was a lucrative tale and one I did
not want to associate with the past. I did not share the
tale with him because as much as I wished on my
favorite star in Orion’s Belt,
I knew his touch was just for fun.
My heart broke around 3a.m.
I couldn’t stop it. I tried so damn hard to break my
ribs open and to bloody my hands in efforts to give
you, someone I care deeply about, a whole heart.
A heart with pristine veins, healthy muscles,
and most importantly – no pieces missing.
But I couldn’t scratch away my skin fast enough
and I convulsed as the tears hit my hands and wished
again that you never asked if I had loved him.
I wished you had asked if I loved you.