Icecreamed when I read

his bitter words through

imessage.

Each syllable took turns

flicking each one of my

eyeballs

left. right. left. right.

Puffy red eyes were always

my thing

because it didn’t matter

how sweet I was to him,

his arrogance was never left

behind &

it always entered the new year

with

us

I like chocolate,

he liked rum raisin

Can’t we get a scoop of each?

“No… Hi, we’d like a cone of rum raisin please”

I carried pieces of my

ripped nails &

squashed raisins

in my sweaty left hand for 1 year

every uneven piece <

every one of byron’s

tantrums <

every curse word

I wanted to say to him

I hated it there just as much as I hated the idea

of sharing my bed with a new person &

him not filling the awkward silences

while I stare

at my pink hearted Home Depot ceiling fan

reanalyzing the bad dreams

I had the night before

with a pen and pad on my thighs

That year, we ate rum raisin

every Saturday.

53 times. I said to myself.

I will leave him. While spitting

raisins out as he’d sweettalk himself.

_________________________

I am from the Dominican Republic where we love to go to a famous ice cream shop called Bón. Rum raisin is one of their most famous ice cream flavors, but I have not been able to come around to truly eating it because of the raisins (They’re a deal breaker for me!). I associate raisins with this past lover because rum raisin was my lover’s favorite ice cream flavor. I simply like chocolate ice cream, but we were never able to compromise on getting a scoop of each flavor. In this poem, I reflect about a past lover who was too selfish and self-centered to notice or care about the things that I liked as well.

Overall, this is a reflection of the type of person I once was. Someone who was willing to put up with just about anything because I got too comfortable being around this one person. The line, “I hated it there just as much as I hated the idea/of sharing my bed with a new person &/him not filling the awkward silences/while I stare/ at my pink hearted Home Depot ceiling fan/reanalyzing the bad dreams/I had the night before/with a pen and pad on my thighs” conveys how I preferred the presence of someone who refused to take my feelings in consideration than being by myself or with someone new. This person became my safety blanket though most of the time I was treated horribly because I got used to them always being there. Their presence made me feel safe, especially when I had my nightmares for they were always there to help me analyze my nightmares.

I enjoy including dialogue in my poems because including another person’s words besides mine and my interpretation shows that they are present even when I reflect about the past. Usually only my side, words, and interpretation of the situation are read in my poems, but I thought it would be nice for the audience to get at least one line from the person I write about. Thank you so much for reading!

Yours Truly,

Isha S. Serrano

(The Wind’s Sentiments)