Loading...
Menu
Ebooks   ➡  Fiction  ➡  Poetry  ➡  Themes & motifs

Thankfully, Hello

thankfully, hello

 

Copyright © 2016 by

 

David Wesley Anderson (@dwesleya)

 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

dedication

 

Remember the first love, it always hurts the most.

poems

 

seven years ago

where is

sorry baby

pulled apart together

in absence

sand heart

thankfully

reels

at a time

make it so

pain love

closure

hello me

an attempt

walls of seoul

seven years ago

 

we cut class and then

split sheets

thirteen months later

married,

bubbling in love

i was another son

daughter you became

somewhere three times

apartments meaningless,

when you decided

for both

it was only you

and i traveled

for only you

now in the west,

a non-civilian

self-centric obliged

to lay for the last time

eleven months ago,

the official document

four months ago

and now

on this day

seven years ago,

we began our journey

where is

 

where is the one

to hear me sigh

the one who says

what is wrong

how was your day

relax,

i’ll make you something

to eat

 

where is the one

to rub my shoulders

to let out the aches

the pains of the day,

to free my feet

from the concrete

 

where is the one

who says

you must be tired

please lay down

put your head

in my lap,

and fall

asleep

sorry baby

 

i would be behind you my

arms wrapped

with you at the stove

cooking

for me,

your neck a place

for me

a tired head

 

we would sway

just a bit

and you would reach for

things utensils

a bowl and just slightly,

it would disrupt

my comfort

 

sorry baby

you would say

soothing my hands

warm from the stove,

for me

you cooked

you calmed

my tired

 

and now there is me

warm and tired

my head dim

cooking

reaching for a bowl,

disrupting

whatever threads of

comfort i had left

no hands soothing

saying,

sorry baby

pulled apart together

 

i must have lost myself

inside of you

at some point

when i lost my way,

and then it wasn’t us

but you and i following

 

when we were both

going places

it was better

it was balanced,

and we pulled at each other

to meet

 

but at some point i lost

my drive

forgetting about myself

doing everything right

but really wrong

 

focused on the wrong

right things

trying to hold it together

not like in the beginning,

when we were both

going places

and trying to meet

up ahead

in absence

 

where are the wonderings

the doodles

on my hand

that you played with?

 

the writings traced

in curiosity

along my arm

when i sleep?

 

even when one

loses a limb

they feel it is there

trembling with

goosebumps

 

in dreams

they feel it is there

electrical pulses

lightning touches

neurons

synapses

 

but at least

i can replace you

with someone else,

i just have to learn

how to love

again

sand heart

 

somedays i say

i want you back

glistening midnight

skin of black, on black

a touch of curve crimson

slanted tongue repeated

addiction

 

emancipated clutching the stray

of your skirt pinching

for just a day,

neither here or not can

i dare find anyone

someone else to care?

 

you showed me the way

a heart in sand cast

concrete dark, but falling

from stars into depths

without you what

was i to expect?

thankfully

 

the words

i wish to use

come jumbled

because

of conflicting

amplified anger,

the sort

a marriage does

to someone

so young

 

thankfully

you ruin only one or two

nights a week nowadays

 

thankfully

our memories are fading

unbearable slow still

 

at least those other nights

some other girl wakes up

and doesn’t want me to change,

and i can sleep

just a bit longer

soundly

reels

 

i realized after the second

girl that

passion is what i know

that i don’t

bang

like you, and

maybe

that’s why it didn’t

work

out

 

you took for granted my touch

my taste

the way i would stroke

and lay with you

breathless,

just

breathing shallow and i realize

now after two girls

that i did too

much for you

 

i do add emotion

a passion

that i want to be wanted

relaxed,

but

you didn’t reciprocate

selfish

consuming

one track design that two

other girls made

me realize

about you

at a time

 

i’m moving on from you

i know this

because every day

i’m a little less angered

by the thought of you,

leaving me

for someone else

some invisible person

 

and why you would text me

at midnight to say

btw i’m seeing someone

crossed your mind as

something relevant

i don’t know,

as if i didn’t get that

when you said you wanted me

to sign here and here and here

 

i’ve shed what i was for you

that you didn’t see anyway

i don’t care if you learn

i’m done with you,

you can deal with you

yourself

make it so

 

i haven’t raged seethed or spread

my anger along a wall

with my fist as a paint brush

 

i haven’t thrown assaults verbal

or knives anything for you

to know how much you’ve hurt me

 

you’ve moved on without so much

as a ‘thank you’ for my loyalty

the condescension is maddening

 

and here i am breathing fire

in whispered voices hushed

ramblings pent up to my core

 

well—i’m too nice to blow up

i’ve never been in a fight to survive

comfort has been my life

 

and yet in a critical moment here

where anger is deserved emotions

clear i have failed to pull the trigger

 

i’ve failed to show respect to the one

individual who through these last years

has done everything to serve you—me

 

the purposeless depressed empty carcass

now typing this piece laying in his own

self-pity and unrelenting hopelessness

 

at which point did i trade my values

for yours? did my self-worth mean

none and the crumbs mean more?

 

and under how many rocks did

i not climb out? days of dehydration

starvation pure imitation of happiness?

 

i had given up potential for now for

‘us’ whatever that was you were

and now—can i move forward?

 

i must against everything else

you were the test and i am not dead

pain love

 

i don’t know what to say anymore

to help you with your own fears

remember,

you didn’t want me

so

why should i help you?

 

i’m angered by the mere slip

of your name

the way i would brush

hair from your face

deeply into eyes stare,

and now i rage

in what once

was

 

i may sleep alone now

because of you i may

have pains in places i didn’t

know i had or feel before

because of you i may,

hate how beautiful you were

to me

i was everyone

every single thing

for you

 

i cant pound my fist hard enough

punch walls fast daring

bare my knuckles enough

driving into this madness

i wish, there was a racetrack alone

at night lap after lap

till everything blurs together

in some sense

trying to find myself

somewhere,

pieces on the asphalt

 

but there isn’t

no matter the scars on my delicate hands

typing this

the salt stinging my eyes

flames set forth

whirl of an engine inside,

i can and must

move forward against

all

that we had created

together

 

if i don’t then i will never

actually cherish

what we had

and i will never

appreciate

what could be

with

someone

else

 

in a round a bout way

my heart beats

ahead and i must

bring up my mind

lest

the past

become my future

 

to have loved and lost

you will know

pain fondly

but know

love

deeper

 

maybe then

i can sleep

soundly

alone

again

closure

 

i don’t miss you anymore

somehow

my unconscious

has forgotten my feelings

wrongly placed

unappreciated

misdirected

 

i don’t wonder anymore

if you need my

help

or how i can

help

or what i can do to

help

your life

 

i don’t feel you anymore

burning in my chest

longing to see you

smell you

touch taste

hear

everything you say

hello me

 

i’m a broken mess

of thoughts an incoherent

barely

emotive

pool of never

ending tragedy

 

i’ve had my heart

broken and i’ve broken

someone’s heart

 

the past lurks around my

left shoulder and on my right

sits the last shred of consciousness

 

i don’t aim to hurt but i strike

with alarming accuracy

on those who love me

or wish to be loved

 

i over think and over

analyze my predictability

while trying to

chaotically

balance extrovertive

impulses to act

like i know what i’m doing

 

i’m over confident

over whelming

over achieving

overly annoying

and a nasty jerk

when i drink

 

as a chameleon

i try to be what you want

instead of the hate that i am

i mold into your picture perfect

and yet the facade is terribly thin

 

i have nothing to hold on to

and i try to take everyone down

with me, i unravel just as

this poem has

from beginning to end

an attempt

 

what is the spark that rises

from within

the one that dimmed

and fled long ago?

from someone you know

longings tidings

as if in an undertow

 

there is a delicacy

in love without verbal

taste the kind of intimate

breaths deepening

in bed, while sleeping

those distant memories

still in the keeping

 

how to knead the old

and the new, well

that is the puzzle of life

letting the threads through

themselves weave and through,

a multiplicative of history

of experience and you

walls of seoul

 

the walls surrounding them they never saw;

only a couple’s bliss with walls of love

that surrounded their desires, no walls could

touch. these walls were fashioned in

secret, under moonlight. walls impenetrable,

walls with foundations of skyscrapers,

their love soaring, walls protecting.

walls everlasting, saving, encapsulating.

protecting them now walls, forever

outlasting steady walls bound of trust.

memorial walls etched in remembrance,

forgiving embracing walls touched with sadness.

open walls with all a gate to see,

closed walls, only a place for we.


Thankfully, Hello

The first love is the young hurting fire. It breaks as an explosion an outburst of humanity. Simple moments comfort and linger. The past hangs as a phantom and you cling to the strands of pain. A rose colored world turns grey and some long time later, the sun rises again. Bursts of fiery anger, they release to remind you… only human. Time reveals slowly your truth and the mirror lies no more. In the end we spark again—finding another match to flame.

  • ISBN: 9781370004348
  • Author: David Wesley Anderson
  • Published: 2016-08-18 04:50:11
  • Words: 1703
Thankfully, Hello Thankfully, Hello