I cut my teeth on you; let enamel tear through the pink tissue of adolescence.
I bared my legs, but bent them inward, dressed them in angles in case
you found them
too soft, too fleshy.
I kept my hair down so subtle shadows fell where cheekbones might be,
stolen symmetry, in case
you realised I wasn’t
pretty enough.
We played pool. I never won. I never cared. We ate hot, salty chips on the way home;
you paid your way and I paid mine.
I never needed
to wear my coat, until
the night you didn’t walk me home. I fell asleep
and you cut your teeth on me.
I paid in full.