Poetry, Portfolio

The Beginning of Love

It started at the end, a swift door slam
All the ornaments fell off the shelves
Sometimes I imagine that I heard you scream
But I know that isn’t possible
Because you have long left the room
I wasn’t going back in there either
The shards are not for me to pick up
And the dust is not for me to sweep
We made that mess together
It isn’t fair that only I have to clean it.

For years, I saw the world as broken
Everywhere I looked there was debris
Everything was just so dirty
At least, everything that you touched
My mother asked me why my room was a mess
And I said, “What’s the difference?
It’s not like anyone is coming over.
It’s not like it wouldn’t still be filthy.
It’s not like I’m going to wake up one day
After a sleepover and see them.”

Now, I take my time and savour the scenery
Because the world is still a mess
And you are still not here
But I refuse to let you change my vision
I’ve been going to the places we’ve been
And breathing new meaning into them
They are nothing but recyclable vessels
And we were nothing but rotting food
So I went at it with soap and wire
Scratching out every last trace of us

Broken things can be beautiful
But so can mended things
I’ve been pouring cement into footprints
That you thought would be fun to leave behind
I accidentally threw out something you gave me
And all I thought was “it’s about time”
The places that we once left our marks
Are now for other people to leave theirs
Right now, I’m trying to clean my room
Because I want to wake up in it and see me

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