Your mattress was set on the floor, older than I’d ever know.
lumpy and uncomfortable.
This is where we spent our time; all of our firsts.
Our first kiss, our first petty fight, the list goes on.
It took place on this mattress that stabbed me with its springs
and pained my back. Still, I wouldn’t say a single complaint.
The awkward marks would stain my skin,
and yet that old mattress is exactly where I stayed.
You were worth it then. I tolerated it all for you.
and then you left.
By the time you had finally returned,
you’d upgraded to a real bed, large and soft.
Comfortable enough for me
to be able to actually sleep on it a time or two.
But it was never really the same.
- Author: alissa ( Offline)
- Published: September 4th, 2017 18:45
- Comment from author about the poem: Things change, people change.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Comments1
Alissa, I like this one a lot. It is very subtle, great metaphor, very well written.
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