Swimming Lessons: Poems. Lili Reinhart

      

       Copyright

      This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in these poems are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

      HarperCollinsPublishers

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      First published in the US by St. Martin’s Griffin, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group

      First published in the UK by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

      FIRST EDITION

      © Lili Reinhart 2020

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

      Cover illustration © Curt Montgomery 2020

      A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

      Lili Reinhart asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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      Source ISBN: 9780008365677

      Ebook Edition © May 2020 ISBN: 9780008365684

      Version 2020-06-10

Dedication

      To my nana, who always

      loved my voice.

      Contents

       Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

       Begin Reading

       Acknowledgments

       About the Publisher

       Introduction

      I believe that we read poetry to relate to the world.

      We see our lives through the words of a poet when we are incapable of expressing ourselves.

      I started reading poetry as a way to comfort myself through spells of depression. Discovering poems that closely reflected the thoughts in my own head became reassuring in a time when I felt severely misunderstood.

      It’s hard to imagine that anyone out there could possibly feel the same things that you do, to the depths that you feel them. Therein lies the beauty and surprise of poetry.

      Once you see that someone understands your feelings, suddenly you’re not alone anymore.

      I decided a little over a year ago that I wanted to share my own collection of poems in the hopes that they could bring comfort to whomever is looking for it.

      The inspiration for this collection came from personal experiences as well as experiences that are not my own. Emotion can be explored and felt through the fabrication of a story, and some of these poems were crafted out of pure empathy for those around me.

      Each one of us leads vastly different lives, and yet we can all relate to the fundamental feelings of happiness and sorrow.

      I hope that you, the reader, can see yourself reflected in my words.

      I can’t seem to write

      perfect words

      or make them flow as

      they should.

      They don’t sound

      particularly profound.

      I can’t paint you

      pretty pictures

      or blend colors like

      other artists do.

      My watercolors don’t

      bleed beautifully.

      But I can say I love you

      in as many languages

      as you need me to.

      I can be fluent in

      loving you.

      It’s been a while since I’ve had a

      moment to miss you,

      and to cry.

      This warm, summer breeze

      on my balcony makes me think of

      Cape Cod,

      and your floral swimsuits.

      How you never wore sunscreen but

      always told us we had to.

      Even in this loud city,

      quiet moments exist where your

      spirit is present.

      And I feel like you’re sitting next to

      me on the beach again.

      So I’ll wait until the sun goes down

      before I go back inside.

      For now, we can sit here and listen

      to the ocean.

      “I love you, darling,” were the last words you said to me.

      And although I don’t have a recording of it,

      and although I forgot to save your voicemails,

      I will never forget the sound of your voice.

      I see you in every flower and every hummingbird

      that happens to be near.

      I’d like to think that it’s your spirit, just saying hello.

      You surround me, always.

      I miss you.

      And I love you, too.