Tarnish Poem by Patrick O'Reilly

Shouldn’t this change things?
Her face, ashamed underneath the mess,
Gazed at the bare, dusty countertop.
Deep down she was a Catholic.
I knew she could taste the regret on her tongue
But fun is fun, fear is fair.
And though I told her I don’t care,
And I don’t mind at all
I was afraid of a single strand smothering my heart,
I was afraid I was lying to her
Because I tried and loved the hell out of her
(for I was a Catholic)
And I always hated to see something golden get the edge of tarnish