Empty Peanut Butter Jar
Utter disgust fills the fibers of my soul
as I unscrew that cherry red lid
to find an empty peanut butter jar.
It was still in the cupboard,
next to golden honey and Himalayan salt.
I just wanted a sandwich.
Peanut butter and jelly on wheat, but
like so many other things, the universe decided
it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe I could salvage
the last morsels left
by some unimaginable creature;
scrape the sides and
make use of what I’ve got.
Gather the sticky sweetness
from the plastic prison it resides.
Smearing on my small hands, the knife,
the granite countertops, your BYU shirt.
How much did I really want
that sandwich for my lunch?
Why was I willing to make such a mess
for something so small, so little
just like you.
Time and time again I gave,
scooping my happiness, sadness, hope,
bit by bit until my jar was empty,
and instead of
filling me up, you found another.
Replaced my salty sweet nature
that filled your mouth with temporary joy,
with Nutella, oh Nutella, such a sin on your lips.
Addie Hemsley is a junior at Utah State University studying English Creative Writing and Psychology. She is currently working as a sports writer for the Utah Statesman and her poem, “Empty Peanut Butter Jar,” will be her first published piece. Addie loves reading and writing all genres, thrifting, outdoor adventures, and her beloved Yorkie, Finn.
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