Monday, May 27, 2013

Willing To Love

The train drew closer
And I waited patiently
For her. It had been
Four months, twelve days,
Seven hours and 15 minutes
Since I last saw her.

Her letter said she
Was coming for good,
That she was looking
Forward to moving to
The little Spanish city
That was my home.

The train emptied out
And between families
And lovers reuniting,
I waited patiently
For her. I waited
Till the little station
Was almost empty.

Then I felt a tap
On my shoulder, I
Turned around to find
The train's conductor,
A letter in his hand,
A mix of sadness and
Pity in his eyes.

He didn't speak,
I didn't speak,
The letter left his hand
Coming into mine.

He walked away,
His mission complete,
A weight, a burden
Now gone, soon to
Be forgotten.

Alas, this weight, this burden
Was now mine,
I walked across to a bench.
As I sat, I opened the letter.

Words swam in and out of
My vision, in and out of
My understanding like
Fish escaping the water
Attempting to fly.

I had read the letter
Once, then twice,
It was only on the third
Reading that I truly
Understood.

In a daze, I walked
Through the city, the
Vibrant colours I had
Come to know had bled away.

I walked to a my neighbourhood,
But passed my abode,
Making my way to the bar
Down the street from it.

I parked myself on
A stool and asked
The bartender, a friend
Of mine, for something hard,
Something to dull the edges.

He didn't ask,
I didn't tell.

Between mid-afternoon
And midnight, I drank
To forget, I drank
To dull the pain, I drank
Till the bartender, the friend
Refused to serve another
Glass of slow death.

Instead at two past
The witching hour,
He delivered me to my home,
Placing me on the bed,
Water on the bedside table
And a bucket on the floor.

She never came, instead
Pain was my companion
During the months that followed.

Eventually it eased from
Sharp to dull like
A butcher's old knife.
Then it became an ache
That returned only when
I remembered.

I stared to forget
Thanks to Maria, and
Maria became Isabella,
Isabella became Bianca,
Bianca became Carmen.

As Carmen slept in
My bed, I returned to
The letter for the first time
In a long time.

In the letter,
She said she loved me
But she was scared,
She didn't have the
Wherewithal to jump, to
Take a chance on
The fickle emotion
Called love.

For the first time ever,
I didn't feel sad,
I felt angry, and in
That anger, I tore the
Letter up, offering the
Pieces to the flames
On my stove top.

I returned to my bedroom,
Stopping at the doorway,
Watching the woman sleeping
In my bed, the woman
Willing to take a chance
On love.

Her eyes opened and on
Seeing me, a lazy smile
Spread across her face,
"Vienes aqui, mi amor,"
Reaching her hand out to me.

I went to her,
Wrapping myself around her.

The pain was gone,
The anger was gone,
Love for some one who
Loved me replaced it all.


Submitted to imaginary garden with real toads and dVerse Poets

24 comments:

Charleen said...

Wow! You made me almost cry! This is so powerful.

Robert Gibson: PWES Editor said...

Wow.... my God Kimmy... I love this... I know exactly how this feels, so many ppl refused to take a chance on my love, either. Powerful is so right!

Kimolisa said...

Thanks Charleen and Robert for reading and your positive feedback.

kaykuala said...

Unrequited love that wears one out is portent in a negative way! A replacement is the most logical before one gets overwhelmed!. Truly often times, it's scary! Nicely Kimolisa!

Hank

Anonymous said...

What a moving and passionate story I felt every word and I saw every moment as if a movie =)

Susan said...

Beautifully told and moving. So many people try to help us heal, but in the end it is time and simply stopping in order to accept the goodness in our lives.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I so love this story - especially where he realizes the woman in his bed is one who is willing to take a chance on love. Great story, so well told.

Jim said...

"You come here, my love"

Nice write, I knew there was a reason.

It generally takes two for a separation.
..

Brian Miller said...

really nice story telling...def a moving tale...good on you for tearing it up...and finding your way...

LaTonya Baldwin said...

The pacing and rhythm. I felt the ache, loss, tenderness and even the anger. Felt them without feeling you were trying too hard to convey them. Not exactly how I'd like to say what I mean but I hope it's understood. Thank you.

Kimolisa said...

Thanks Hank, I wanted to see the point of view from someone who was denied love from someone they loved.

Thanks mindlovemisery, strangely enough I see some of my poems like movies while I write.

Thanks Susan, it's true in the end time and the decision to move on is what heals a broken heart.

Thanks Sherry Blue Sky, I'm glad you enjoyed this poem.

So true, Jim. I never thought of that way though. One person might pull away, but the other may be holding on. I would love to work that point of view through some more.

Thanks Brian, I'm glad he tore it up, too. It is a major turning point to destroy the last thing connecting him to the woman who could not love him.

Thanks LaTonya, I appreciate your positive feedback and I understand what you mean.

RMP said...

a very heartfelt and touching piece. I admit I held my breath as I waited by the train, felt my heart plunge as unseeing the words were drowned, and the release as the wisps of burned paper carried away the last remnants of lost love.

Grace said...

I love, love the story ~ Simple, yet meaningful ~ I like the turn from hope to despair, then numbing ache, then finally the realization to take a chance on love ~ The pain was gone, replaced by love ~ Beautiful share ~

Unknown said...

you brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.

Wolfsrosebud said...

so complete... I loved the victory at the end... sometimes we are so blind

Buddah Moskowitz said...

As this is the story of my life, I can attest to its truth. You captured the loss, the pain, the change and finally the realization.

This was a masterful story.

Maggie Grace said...

Beautiful story of grief and healing and letting go. Brilliantly written!

aka_andrea said...

oh, you captured this so well. I've recently been wondering, do we only get over one at the introduction of another...your ending lines touch that question for me.

Jeff said...

I think it is the rapidity of the pulse moves this piece so well, powerfully.

There seems a touch of uncertainty in the most engaging relationships that make them all too fragile, subject to demolition at any moment. We're always on the verge.

I enjoyed your poem.

Cheers!

Kimolisa said...

Thanks RMP, I'm glad that the poem was able to pull you in.

Thanks Grace, I'm happy that you love the story.

Thanks Penelope Jones, this poem made me teary eyed when I wrote it.

Thanks Wolfsrosebud, it felt fair that there be a victory in the end, but I will consider exploring the reverse.

Thanks Buddah, sorry to hear that this is the story of you life.

Thanks Maggie Grace for the positive feedback.

Thanks aka_andrea, I'm happy to hear that the poem resonated with something you have been exploring.

Thanks Jeff, I'm glad that you enjoyed the poem.

Thanks everyone for the positive feedback.

Beachanny said...

A bit of Hemingway here - real, truth, and poetry. Sweet wine, long nights and life a course that includes the stars.

Anonymous said...

Such an intense and powerful journey...glad love was found in the end.

Kimolisa said...

Thanks Beachanny, I consider that a complement to be compared to Hemmingway.

Thanks M. J. for reading and your positive feedback

Jinksy said...

So, broken hearts doe mend? :)

 
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