I have to take a break. I want to write happy and whimsical poems. Poems that make people laugh, and smile, but I find myself drawn to themes of heartbreak, sadness, and isolation. Topics that don’t lend themselves to humor as much. One day “A” will stand for “A Happy moment” But for the time being it will continue to stand for whatever themes and words life points me in.
Today A is for “A Break”. Not a break in time between post, but a break in me that needs to be fixed.
I hide my anger. Sometimes I can feel it in my stomach,
working its way up my throat.
Sometimes I even taste anger when it reaches my tongue,
but I swallow it back whole, making sure to never
regurgitate my anger in front of anyone.
Instead I wait.
Wait till I’m back in the privacy of my own home and use my
blue pen to release my anger and vomit
all over my spiral notebook.
This woman has ruined her body with all these scars. She is ugly.
This woman lives on with her scars and continues to move forward. She is beautiful.
Is there any way to fix this?
Any way to go back to how we were?
Back to when I could hold on to your soft waist
like a child clinging to her trusty security blanket
when all else fails.
Back to when I was able to make you laugh, the sound of your roar
echoing in the distance.
The very noise that now rings incessantly in my head.
Is there any way for me too see you in person, before
the sight of your lovely face made me nauseous, anxious, and sick.
Any way to steal one more kiss and start over again?
For, if such an absurd way exist, I want to learn it.
But what’s the use of trying to go back to that time,
if my memory of you has distorted the reality of you
anyway?
Hey can you help me with my marketing homework?
Can you show me how to use Microsoft Excel?
Hey, I need some help moving to my new apartment.
Hey, can you watch Fluffy for me while I’m in Italy?
Do you have 20 bucks I can borrow real quick?
I can’t go to my brother’s wedding by myself, can you come with?
Can you drive me to my dentist appointment?
Can you talk to her, see if she likes me?
Hey, how are you? Want to come over to my place tonight?
Sure, anytime.
Five long text messages and twelve missed calls.
If he can just see her blue eyes in person, then
maybe, just maybe, he can salvage this relationship.
“Relationship is a heavy, cumbersome word.”
“Relationship is an unsexy word.”
Despite her insistance to not dress their pairing with a label,
happiness is the only word he could think to call this.
He was so close to happiness.
And after all this.
He has failed.
Almost is not good enough.
Almost is bullshit.
Almost does not count.
Almost does not matter.
Addiction.
Dependent. Fixated.
Cherishing, yearning, mourning.
Hostile. Ashamed. Vulnerable. Alienated.
Devotion.
Can I have your attention please?
What do you plan on doing with it?
I’m not sure, I can try and make you smile.
No Thank you.
You did it.
You finally did something.
Achievement is good, right?
They acknowledge you now that you have achieved their goal.
Go on, shake their reassuring talons.
Congratulations, you’ve earned their respect.
They admire you because of your achievements.
They judge with anxious eyes that see only a standing pile of achievements.
They are proud of you now.
You didn’t disappoint them this time.
At last they provide you with the recognition you craved.
Don’t forget to tell people about your achievement.
What good is it to achieve, if no one recognizes you for it?
A is for Alfredo 