Breaking Up With My College Bf
by Ellaha Rabail / November 8, 2026 / Poetry / dating culture
© Ellaha Rabail
My Body Count is 21
Desperate for the glory of love,
I said he’ll know the taste of my skin,
eat at the table of my tongue.
Now I give him
a rigid back, a chilly chest,
counting all the ways he doesn’t,
all the the things he can’t,
with twisted feet,
and singed teeth,
a steel wire in my throat.
I shouldn’t have let him know!
I shouldn’t have let him know!
My body count is twenty one
for every year I’ve been here.
How else can this flashing nerve and mass
thrum around the earth?
He pictures twenty one shell-shuckers
gutting me like a glistening pearl from the center of a clam.
But I’m just an ant drowning in the honey of life.
He’s another boy, with small eyes
and honey on his lips.
Oh I could’ve never loved him anyway,
wretched and sexless, worst person in the world,
Daughter of Cain, a wound between my legs,
I scratch at it
again
and again.
Ellaha Pirzada
I want
I want to put my mouth around something
Everybody’s asking for more,
I give, give, give,
I ask god if its okay;
He says
to be wanted is holy.
To give is righteous.
But just once in awhile
when he’s too tired to notice
and the day starts to stumble
onto its last legs.
I like to sit and play with it,
put my mouth around its width
and pretend I’m good at it.
Every once in awhile
I take
and my hands come
away
white,
feeding my appetite for brightness.
Ellaha Pirzada
The End
He says he’ll leave me for my sake
fall on his sword,
but the blade is at my throat,
its my guts on the floor.
I like the labor of the moment,
how long it takes for the head of hair
to fall between the legs,
how the boulder at the top of the hill starts to roll down its own.
We fought against it for so long,
murmuring of the time well spent.
But time’s a stepfather, he makes us fend for ourselves
asking back for the hours
we filled burying dead birds and burning logs
the yellow night lying flat,
how you felt inside my mouth,
my arms curled around yours.
I left the city in which I loved you,
left my insides but took the sword
I loved the moments,
but there was nothing left to labor over.
Ellaha Rabail is a Pakistani-American writer with a fascination of all things related to love, country and religion. She is inspired by the works of Salman Rushdie, Arundhati Roy and the Desai’s. When she is not reading, she can be found working on her debut novel.