My Room

Poetry that should have never made it out of my draft but somehow did (2026)

I cleaned my room the night you left

Packed your clothes in unflattering nylon bags

Combed through my wardrobe until nothing of yours was left

Didn’t want to return everything but had to

Still managed to hold on to your track suit

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I took out the trash the night you left

Used condoms hiding beneath the bed stand

Memories of you and I, wondering how we got here

We swore we’d take it slow

Mama probably thinks I’m still a virgin

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I rearranged my room the night you left

Books I said we’d read, poetry and prose

Movies we never got around to watching

Songs I’ll never hear you sing again

How did I let myself fall for you?

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I cleared my room the night you left

Told myself it was for the best

What decent lady keeps a man in her nest

But you’re no man and I’m not a lady

Just two kids figuring out life and hoping to not have a baby

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I did some long-overdue laundry the night you left

But nothing can erase your scent from the pillowcase.

Your cigarette burns on my reading desk

The brown stains from the coffee you spilled on my sheets

All linger, as though awaiting your return

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I scrubbed my bathroom the night you left

Washed the mirror and cried when your favourite song came on

Tried to rinse away the idea of us in my head

Still the hand prints on the wall refuse to wash away

Why is it so hard to let you go?

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I cleaned out my room the night you left

I say it again as though it matters

But it doesn’t and it probably never will

‘Cause you’ll be back tomorrow

And you’ll find my door wide open