First Love Haiku

First Love Haiku

She was the summer

Fresh clean, beautiful and mine

untouched by others

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He was a man shattered by love

the moment he found out.

The summer he had held so gently

was no longer untouched,

no longer his alone.

The words came quietly,

almost kindly,

but they split him open.

He had believed in her light,

in the clean brightness of her laughter,

in the way she stood before him

as if the world had not yet marked her.

And now the truth stood there instead.

Not loud,

not cruel,

just undeniable.

He felt something collapse inside his chest,

like a house built carefully by hand

suddenly finding rot in its beams.

First love is a dangerous country.

He had walked into it barefoot,

trusting every field,

drinking from every clear stream.

He did not know betrayal had a pulse.

He did not know it could wear her face.

Nights grew longer after that.

Sleep would not stay.

Her name turned heavy in his mouth.

He replayed every touch,

every promise,

every look that now felt borrowed.

He was not angry at first.

Only broken.

There is a particular silence

that comes after a heart cracks.

It is not dramatic.

It is hollow.

He moved through days like a man underwater,

hearing distant voices,

feeling nothing reach him fully.

Summer had ended without warning.

The warmth he thought eternal

was only a season after all.

And in the quiet ruin of his first love,

he learned this,

that innocence is fragile,

that trust once shattered

never fits the same way again,

and that a man can survive heartbreak,

but he will never again love

as blindly as he did

that first time.

He thought this love would be his only love.

Now broken, he says never again to love.

Till the next time, that is.