We Are Over

We are over. I have moved on. But will I ever get the stench of your cigarettes out of my room? I’ve washed my sheets, scrubbed the floors, repainted the walls— Yet you remain. We are over. I have moved on. But will I ever stop wincing at the sight of Jim Beam? I’ve had my own drinks since you, but that label still makes me sick. The empty bottles are long gone, But their presence lingers. We are over. I have moved on. But will I ever stop counting calories? I’ve gained back the weight you stole, Yet your voice still echoes when I eat. I hear I am beautiful now, But even their voices can’t drown you out. We are over. I have moved on— To a man whose scent I crave, Whose presence is gentle, whose love is steady. He tells me I am beautiful— And one day, I’ll believe him.