Never Never
You never told me your full name; you never asked for mine; you never memorized my coffee order; never bought me flowers; never kissed me on the I-95; you never said that I’m cool –– this is cool –– let’s be cool about it; I never said I’m cool –– you’re cool –– I’ll be cool about it; we never jumped off the cliffs at 1:37 AM in Avignon; you never reached out for me; the water was never cold; the world was never dark; you never told me me i’m certain, i’ll never love like this again; you never cried; never broke down on the lookout; never held your foot down on the accelerator; I never clutched my seat; never begged you to slow down, sit down, stay down; you never taught me the right way to inhale a cigarette; never taught me how to inhale; how to hold it in my lungs; how to twirl the cigarette between my fingers after taking a drag; how to flick the ash off; I never asked about the Bible on your bedstand; the cross on your neck; Jesus on a cross on your back door; your father crossed at you; the Father crossed at you; you never asked me to go to mass; never told me I’m going to Hell; never told me you’re going to Hell; even though you’ve been going to confession since you were fourteen; going to mass on your knees; asking for forgiveness in advance; you never held me tight; never kissed my forehead when it was fevered; never brought a wet cloth to my head; waited for the fever to break; I never called you to pick me up at 4AM when I got too drunk with a friend; a friend who I learned halfway through the night saw me as more than just a friend; a friend who tried to kiss me when I was too drunk; who tried to tell me I wanted it; you never smoked that joint before picking up my call; never smoked before starting the car; I never told you to drive fast and you never crashed the car; never drove into the rail; never flipped the car; you never remembered it all; never got the bills; never got the pills; and never took them in double doses; you never started asking the person four floors down and three rooms across for something stronger; something harder; when you couldn’t get your hands on the orange bottles anymore; you never called me up; never told me you changed your mind about me –– about this –– about it; I never told you you’d regret it; that you were just killing yourself; that I wouldn’t be there when you sobered up; even though, I could never really leave you; & you knew that; & I knew that; & maybe that’s why it hurt so much more; you never sparked the lighter; never grabbed the spoon; never found the vein; never stopped in vain; you never never stopped.
Jamie Kim
Jamie Kim is a writer from New Jersey currently studying Creative Writing at Columbia University. She is also the founder of the literary nonprofit Pen&Quill. Most days, you can find her reading in bed beside her dog.