those first two lines!
Those were actually the part of the poem that stuck in my head, another version of this exists:
Hell, I could’a loved me better.
I could’a kissed him in summer afternoons,
and enjoyed the way he smiled,
or how his lips tasted like those candies he popped from pocket.
I could’a stayed home,
‘stead’a ridin’ my bike,
‘n slidin’ arm first down twenty feet of hill.
I could’a stayed outside,
‘stead’a walkin’ into a dog-sized pup’s home,
‘n gettin’ scar-bit on the arm.
I could’a waited patiently,
‘stead’a swingin’ rope on that backyard playset,
‘n crackin’ my head clean open.
I could’a used a clamp,
‘stead’a holdin’ the frames with my hand,
‘n drivin’ a screw-gun through my thumbnail.
I could’a deleted that voicemail,
‘stead’a listenin’ to a 10 minute butt-dial of her ‘n her friend,
‘n drinkin’, ‘n drinkin’, ‘n drinkin’.
I could’a dropped that line on someone’s head,
‘stead’a drivin’ that hinge into the muscle of my arm,
‘n peelin’ me wide like some fillet.
I could’a stayed inside,
‘stead’a takin’ her to get those snow-bound pictures,
‘n wreckin’ my first car.
