6/1/2018 Poetry By Samantha Cole-ReardonRotten And I have eaten nothing but the dust rising off of old photographs I am flipping through empty photo albums after ripping up each of our pictures and I am regretting every tear The only thing to pass my lips since you left me is coffee Because I am so tired in this empty house I am falling asleep every time I try to find hope or joy in any other home The old wood smells like rot and mold and love and you The splinters in the pads of my toes feel less like hurt and more like comfort It feels like you are sleeping in the next room and I can just call to you to say Baby, It happened again Help me pull the pain out Except I somehow I have forgotten that you are not here anymore I somehow forgot that you put tacks on the floor Broken glass in my pillowcase You took a hammer to the light bulbs in every room And you let my ribs shatter as you stepped over my body and kicked me on your way out the door And breathing hurts and eating hurts and thinking hurts But crying does not And writing poems does not Seeing echoes of your body in my mattress does not I am snuggled in to your side of the bed It doesn’t smell like you anymore Now it just smells like the god damn wood in this rotting house I still cannot talk about how you forgot to shut off the sink when you walked out of the home we built together And now I am drowning in my own body Waking up and calling to you still But I forgot that you left me here No food in the cupboard, No appetite anyway Flipping through photo albums with empty pages But the captions still scribbled below My handwriting and then yours Baby Don’t we look happy here? Baby Look at how much I love you Baby, baby, baby Look at this house we built together. Rose If I weren’t so tired I would write you a better poem I’d tell you about how even after all the clouds in the atmosphere have congregated over my head I can feel you holding me like the first raindrop holds my attention when it hits my hungry skin I feel you even from 1,000 miles away If I weren’t so tired I’d tell you that I wish I could be better for you I’d tell you how when I think of how broken I have been I’m nervous to give you something with so many cracks in it I wish that when you looked at me like every good day was packaged up into my ponytail It was true If I weren’t so tired I would say thank you Because even on sucky days when I cry at three in the morning simply because I’m so happy you are you I can almost hear your heartbeat bumping at just the right pace to calm me down I’d tell you that no one has ever made a lazy Sunday sound so life altering No one has ever touched me so soft I had to question if you were really there If it doesn’t hurt how do I know if you’re still next to me? But I am so tired tonight Even all the lightning bugs are fast asleep and the bats are getting ready for day break So before I finally let all this baggage I’ve been holding onto hit the ground With a thud that echos all night I want to tell you that you are all the good days packaged up into a ponytail You are the first raindrop after the longest drought You are the softest kiss but the hardest laugh And I wish I could write you a better poem So you could understand That I am exhausted But not with you Never with you ![]() Bio: Samantha Cole-Reardon has recently found herself at Florida State University studying Higher Education, but her heart lies in Massachusetts where she graduated with a B.S. in Psychology at Bridgewater State University. Sammy has loved to write her entire life and lives for cheesy poems. In her free time, you can find her staring into the abyss and thinking about life, or eating a healthy diet of ice cream and popcorn. Sammy is made primarily out of bubble gum and glitter, but could not do so without coffee and an internal dialogue that just won't quit. Comments are closed.
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