red flannel

there's a large part of me that wishes we'd never met;

wishes I'd never walked up those stairs and shook your damp hand.

you towered over me, in your favorite red flannel.

I of course, didn't know that at the time, but through the next few months I'd see it hang from your body over our many encounters.

like the night you promised me more- but that came later of course; though you never did that night.

no one has ever entranced me the way you did that very first night.

every word you spoke rang in my ears like a melody.

as if my soul was clinging to your every last word.

I remember being taken aback at how captivated by you I was,

even just your presence in the world was unlike any other, and I took note.

I think my whole body froze when you glanced back over your shoulder at me from the top floor.

that smirk was all I needed to feel as if it was only you and me that room at that moment.

and I still wonder if that glance was an accident, or not even a thought in your mind.

or if it was intended for you to set my world on fire.

and even after the fascination that arose from that night, I was fine.

as I drove away with the cool midnight air breezing through my window, I felt content.

I could have recovered from that.

you crossed my mind in a sense that I just appreciated the way you crossed through life.

just friends was truly enough for me that night.

but then that next meeting; that next night changed everything.

you were late, as you always were; and again I'd find that out more and more with everyday that you crashed into my world.

but even from the other side of the house, as you entered, again in that red flannel; I felt you take a pull over me already.

I knew somehow I'd lost control, I didn't know why; but I wanted to be yours.

you came over to me and I felt it all.

I was yours in a way I couldn't describe, even if you knew it or not.

any sense I'd once thought I could maintain around you was lost in the distance.

part of me thinks you could sense the control.

and when you picked up your guitar it was as if you were serenading me with songs perfectly catered for me.

it left me feeling so exposed and vulnerable, because there's no way you could've known what the words you were singing meant to me.

your voice sent chills down my spine,

your fingers danced across the strings and I was utterly captivated.

I can still see it all too clearly.

as the night passed on and the morning sun peaked in the horizon,

we were just igniting the spark of our fire.

I playfully laughed after your every word,

and you shifted closer to me.

and before I knew it my head was on your shoulder.

and no matter if you'd admit it or not, you brushed my hand and placed your arm so gently over mine.

you didn't move it and I would've left it there forever.

my whole world was up in flames from that moment on.

the heat that radiated off your body all through the early morning kept me warm as you shivered at my side.

it was all a night I'm sure you've since forgotten.

but a night that changed the orbit of my world.

and as I sit here weeks later,

I'd give anything to re-route myself back if I could.

back to the path I was on before that night.

before I twistedly imagined up every path we could've taken.

before I showed you the weakest parts of my heart;

the parts you asked to see.

but of course, still inevitably the reason you closed the door on me.

so after all this,

I look back and I can still see that look in your eye.

that night you held me, I thought I could see into you; thinking I had hooked you in some sense.

but I see now that you just have the presence in this world that flocks to the weak,

and you've used it to melt many before me, and without a doubt,

many after.

and it all goes back to that smirk on the top floor, I think, in that damn red flannel.

because it was a smirk that whether or not you intended for my heart,

it changed me.

the crawl space I had created towards my false hope opened up when I glanced over to you,

and it over time, led to a rabbit hole of despair,

that has since greeted me after your final touch.