A Poem-ish Thing

This isn't really poetry, it's just what ended up spewing out of me earlier. The random spewing of someone who hasn't done any writing for fun in too long, unedited, so there's probably quite a lot that could be better, especially since it took a little for me to figure out a rhythm. Enjoy?


He liked glee, and so did she.
By musical television did they meet.
And little by little they fell in love.

He took her to see Winnie the Pooh.
Left notes in the most unexpected places.
Ever the gentleman he was.

She read him books on long car rides.
Sent songs over email that she knew he would like.
Perfect as far as he could ever be concerned.

They began to give up themselves to each other.
Spending more time together than apart.
Forgetting a world existed outside of them.

She learned she was pregnant.
Notated by a simple pink line.
The world was crashing down.

Their ambitions and dreams were gone.
How had it happened?
When had they forgotten them.

They fell in to a complacent life.
Nothing ever perfect.
But everything was good enough to not notice.

He realized they were in a rut.
Twenty-six, and all the joy was gone from her eyes.
Yet he knew they could escape it.

Clyde was left at her sister's house.
A road trip, just like when they were young.
Still, not quite the same.

They could never be the same.
Things they had loved were no longer there.
And little by little they fell out of love.

She watched movies during the day.
Remembered everything that needed to be done.
Ever independent, yet still a housewife.

He read hundreds of memos a day.
Listened to music on the radio.
Bored out of his mind, all the same.

Clyde asked "What is love?"
They didn't remember.
How could they answer?

She realized there was nothing left to their marriage.
Three kids out of the house, and he looked exhausted.
She knew she could fix it.

They went to see a movie.
Dressed to the nines.
But what was there to talk about?

He started seeing someone else.
Behind her back.
And he felt horrible, but saw no alternative.

She found out.
No way not to.
So they split further apart.

They fought every second.
Screaming that all the neighbors could hear.
Not that they cared anymore.

She was looking through old boxes the night before the divorce finalized.
Looking for an old cookbook.
And she found a particular box.

He had left notes on every item.
Burned CD's, annotated books, boxed sets of tv shows.
All the notes were memories.

"Annie's Anniversary Present.
Didn't even know she knew I'd been wanting a Doctor Who box set."
It was the result of her drilling every person he knew to annoyance.

"Clyde's First Book.
Read it together on the trip to my parents'."
And then read it hundreds times thereafter.

She couldn't take it.
Had to call him.
But he didn't pick up.

She left a simple voicemail.
Hoped it was enough.
Because it was the rest of her heart.

"I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Last road trip before she found out.
And he'd laughed for what seemed like hours.

She couldn't remember when they'd ever been that happy their after.
Probably hadn't been.
But maybe this was their last chance.

He texted her back later that night.
Not a note, because he no longer had a key.
"Yet what he'd really seen was his broken family whole."

He wanted to be whole again, and so did she.
By cellular phone did they reconcile.
And little by little, they fell in love again.


~Jess the Nerdfighting BandGeek