Eviction

the only thing my mom misses about you

is exactly what I miss about you, too

I don’t wish for things to be

the way they were, but I’m allowed

to miss you, right?

I’m allowed to grieve for you, to want for

the things you gave me after all this time

I’ve been on and off my meds lately

and I guess that’s where this is coming from

thw part of me I tried to suffocate and leave

behind when you left me

but it’s the only thing that makes me

want to write poetry, the grief

the pain that dug so deep and scarred over

new skin stretched over old skin and

wouldnt’t it be nice to see your face again?

But every old album on social media

memories remind me of why you weren’t

the one for me and why the one that comes

after is always a better one,

but are they the one

that comes and picks me up when it’s

too dark to walk home,

when the bus forgets to stop or when my

money runs too low or I read the wrong

times and I’m not sure how many calls I

made to you to help me out,

but you always did in the end

I know I can’t compare them all to you

but you were my first, and how

pathetic am I? To remember you,

to give you a poem after all the shit

you put me through,

what did I do to offer you

a permanent home inside me

that you never walked out of?

What precident did you set,

what scars are you forcing me to carve

on all the men that try to burrow in?

This is your final eviction notice,

within 3 days time, remove

every piece of you still attached

to the crevices of my being

and never even speak a syllable

resembling my name again

and this is a promise

that I’m renovating myself

and out front on my new lawn

a sign says,

“I’m open,

come on in.”

13

Months have passed and turned
to years, and suddenly a man I
knew so well is now a man some
girl knows better, and well, I
saw him not that long ago and
I’m pretty sure he knew my face and
when you see a man you knew
holding up the girl who now knows
that man on his shoulders, laughing
like there wasn’t a care in the world, like
he didn’t break some girl’s heart
months and months and months ago, like
that man never took a girl’s soul and
pierced it straight through until
a hole became infected and stitched over,
internally bruised and blood drenched and like
he had changed, but a man like that
could never change, and now that girl
who knows that man better, doesn’t know
how freeing it truly feels to be
rid of that man, to be truly
loved by herself, because that man she
thinks she knows is no lover
she deserves