Eleven -- A Poem by Me

Number One was joy.
     Number Two was just a boy.
Both were barely seventeen.
And I was very young then,
So I kept it clean.

Number Three?
     Don't get me started.
Number Four was a one-night stand.
Number Five was smart, but I broke his heart
When I refused his hand.

Number Six should not have happened,
     But happened nonetheless.
Number Seven should have been better
But he was a hot hot mess.

Number Eight came sort of late.
But he was new to the game.
He turned out to be a coward
Who shrank at the sight of my shame.

Number Nine,
     He was mighty fine.
And I thought he loved me then.
But his web of lies left me unraveled
To be put back together by Ten.

     But now?

Now I feel I've touched a star
And found a piece of heaven.

On a scale of one to ten,
     You're Eleven.