My Wardrobe

Poetry

As I touch a piece of clothing I try my best not to cry,

But every time I look at my wardrobe I’m taken back to a time.

I look on both sides of this small room and don’t know where to begin,

My clothes have memories attached to someone and my patience is wearing thin.

The first shirt hasn’t been worn in awhile, it’s the hardest piece to see,

It’s the loose navy top I wore on a memorable night you got to meet me.

I paired it with skin-tight black jeans and my trustworthy combat boots,

A deathly combination I’d always sworn made me look super cute.

Agreement came in the form of a kiss on that very night,

Hearts thumping like crazy as you held me close under a cliche streetlight.

We kept our bodies near so I liked wearing my soft crimson henley,

You’d fasten me in your arms and caress my ribcage ever so gently.

I fought off my feelings for you because you told me you would not be here long,

When you held me in your sleep I felt you grab at the clothes I kept on.

Holding back my fears was one thing, hoping you wouldn’t string me along,

I took out my skin tight black jeans one night and put those combat boots back on.

I wore my deathly combination of black and paired it with a sheer sweater,

The bar was buzzing but I was only looking forward to our night together.

We drank beer and watched hockey before walking hand in hand back to your place,

And fell asleep watching tv on the couch; when we awoke I saw it on your face.

Rain drizzled from the dark sky as we walked across the parking lot that morning,

You shielded me with your neon work vest which made you quite adorning.

Rain turned to sunshine and I was able to flaunt more of my silky soft skin,

But this time around felt different and I craved your hands spelling out sin.

The hot weather made me throw on a pair of cutoff shorts and show up at your loft,

Falling off one shoulder was the forest green top I could so easily slip off.

Nights like these were simple and picking out my clothes became a piece of cake,

But the impending date of your departure was upon us and my body began to ache.

The same body that wore black trousers and a blouse with tiny white polka dots.

My work attire showed a new side of me and you were there to help drop me off.

We shared two waffles the morning you drove me to school in your truck,

We talked about the ins and outs of work and how you weren’t able to pick me up.

Darkened streets yet I felt safe as you drove us and I listened to your every word,

You stopped in the parking lot and kissed me goodbye with a sweet and subtle smirk.

Something about your gritty smile made that damn smirk the part of you I liked best.

Now I know it was just a joke because you gave it to me the morning before you left.

This time I was the one to give you the kiss goodbye as I crawled onto your mattress,

I was wearing a soft pink thermal when I was left to wonder the state of our status.

I guess now I can say I am pretty lucky that it is no longer warm outside,

So I put away those cutoff shorts that you would so easily slide down my thighs.

Those black jeans have seen better days and I’m tired of the wear and tear.

The black combat boots started to rip so I decided it was time to get a new pair.

But nothing can replace the feelings that my wardrobe still holds dear.

I just wish you’d left me with something that made sense, something more clear.

My fingers brush the hanging clothes and the damp corners of my eyes,

As I continue to look around this closet it is hard to put my feelings aside.

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Green-Eyed Girls

Poetry

Only three percent of the world’s population

Possess some form of green colored eyes.

How strange it is that your list of ex-lovers

All seem to share this sweet surprise.

Maybe you don’t know this about yourself

But clearly, I think you do.

See you have this thing for green-eyed girls

And it’s obvious you crave this hue.

Each face is distinct, a different kind, but

Look closely at the pigment on their rims.

Your favorite color swirling inside the orbs,

A simple piece of the forest living in them.

Your first girlfriend in high school was the

Cheerleader or popular kind, I guess.

I’m sure her sea foam eyes matched the color

Of her corsage, and sparkly prom dress.

Next up was a single mom with a son whom you

Wrestled with while he wore his army gear.

Her eyes reflected the color of her son’s combat helmet

And you three were an item for a little over two years.

Heartbreak can lead you down a disastrous path though

And sometimes alter your ever-changing views.

I’m not sure if you thought this girl was the one but

It seemed like the situation left more than a bruise.

This path led you to a younger woman’s bed who had

Similar features of your ex, casting an illusion.

None of this resembled a relationship that was real

Which led you down another trail of confusion.

Soon you attached yourself to another innocent bystander

Who was focused and determined to keep you forever.

Fire red hair flowing next to her emerald eyes full of awe

And yet you ran off looking for something better.

Another single mother with a daughter this time

And olive eyes glowing between thin black creases.

But she wasn’t the one you’d been searching for

So you left her and her heart in a million pieces.

I’m afraid to say this is the part where we finally reach

My side of this crazy green-eyed girl story.

I never thought I was a distraction from your crazy life

But I also didn’t yet know of those who came before me.

You were falling into a spiral and this time

I was the one trapped in your vicious web.

I wanted it to feel right when we were together

But all you wanted was me in your bed.

My green eyes have always been something

I loved about my outward appearance.

But when you saw them it was nothing

Just another soul on clearance.

So congrats, you made me a green-eyed monster

Filled to the brim with crazy envy.

Because the next girl you began to date

Stole my eyes so you can easily forget me.

Her versus Me

Poetry

Her face against yours in that picture

made the volcano inside of me erupt.

The emotions spewing from my body

felt like acid reflux; unwanted and abrupt.

Confrontation was not what you wanted

but my gloves were ready for the ring.

Preparing to fight until you insisted

that we were the exact same thing.

My head dropped to my chest

because I honestly could not see

why you had turned something like this

into a battle; her versus me.

You consoled me and did not blame me

for feeling the way that I did.

I waited days to give you another chance

like I was some dumb little kid.

I made your bed when you showered

and I saw her name light up your phone.

We never discussed what this was

but how should I have known?

Screaming at the top of my lungs

each time I drove over to your place.

But soon my heart would melt

the second I saw your charming face.

Just tell me why you are friends with her

even though she is miles away.

Yet I am the one knocking on your door

begging like a stray dog who wants to stay.

Maybe this was all my fault

I am still not exactly sure.

But now I know your secrets

were something I could not endure.

Months have gone by without seeing you

but it has honestly felt like years.

I tend to think she is still in your life

and it brings me to my knees in tears.

Toothpaste, Ketchup, and Yellow Trucks

Poetry

I have a list that goes on for miles

I made it the other day.

I wrote down all the things that remind me of you

stuff I should probably throw away.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I have to bid adieu.

But I really want to tear it up

and pretend like this is all untrue.

It begins with the orange toothpaste,

something I used anytime

I was over at your place.

I recall the mint flavor on your tongue,

but now that usual sweet taste

has left me bitter and stung.

Next is the bottle of ketchup I see,

sitting there in my fridge

obviously taunting me.

The brand is your last name

written in caps and bold.

I wish I could let it just sit there

but my heart has switched cold.

The final item I can not throw away,

it is impossible to do so because

I see it almost every day.

Yellow trucks constantly roaming around,

and the second I see one

my walls begin to crumble down.

It might not be the yellow truck that you drive,

but I still look and I swerve

and I barely survive.

The Last Night

Poetry

Last night I did not know you.

Last night you were not my friend.

Last night I felt like all we had worked towards had officially come to an end.

Last night you did not touch me.

Last night we barely spoke.

Last night I could sense my heart starting to break before it had actually broke.

That would be the last night I would sleep in your bed.

The last night I would lie there with you and a million thoughts hanging above my head.

But you are not worried about me because I always wake up like everything is alright.

Even though I knew all along that this would be the last night.

Boys and Dolls

Poetry

Don’t judge boys who play with dolls

maybe they’re just confused.

They feel a sense of temptation

which is something most boys can’t refuse.

Some boys hide their dolls from plain sight

so that others don’t know what they’re doing.

It may seem like a fun time for them

but dolls can be easily ruined.

When they brush her hair back and pull it

they feel like they’re in control.

And when they bend her knees and twist her head

they must remember she has a soul.

But please don’t judge boys who play with dolls

maybe they’re just lonely.

We all wish to find someone

who can be our one and only.