PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You came back to me the weekend before my birthday

I thought it odd but you said you were sorry

And that you wanted to be selfish but committed

And when I looked through your phone I saw

How you talked to him

And him

And him

And how he said it had been two weeks

Since “the towel”

And how he tracked your period

Like Ahab with his charts

So when you stopped texting me back

The day after you took me out for my birthday

And we played darts

And I got the double bull

And you left early that morning

I waited

And waited

And knew

Because I’ve known this wait before

And I moved much quicker to return the room to its former form

And cleaned up the dead spider I had kept on the wall

The one you had smashed with your dirty hippie shoes

And threw out the wine corks scattered under the couch

And cleaned up the long strands of golden hair in the shower drain

And picked up your dirty laundry laying on your shelf

And took the sheets off the bed

That cream colored conch marks

From legs spread had tread

And packed it up

And rid the existence of you into the dumpster

Into the drain

Into the toilet

And watched it swirl into infinite banishment

And went home

And washed my clothes

And my laundry

And my skin

And my eyes

And my fingernails

and as I returned back to my apartment

my laundry basket at nose level

I smelled the old smell

I had once brought into my place

And as it reached my face

I felt safe