A stream of my Conciousness

The A-word

So, my mum asks, did you talk about ... the a-word?

"It didn't really come up" I say

Even though the whole way there

I mentally prepared myself just in case it did

It's a new one

I'm used to: you know who, a meaningful pause or my manipulative ex-girlfriend

And yes maybe, occasionally

Her actual name.

But names, hold power

And hers grips onto her tightly

Sowed on like a shadow

A combination of 8 constenants and vowels

Pleasing in societies eyes

That somehow holds the weight of her

The way my memory can't

That whenever anyone introduces themselves with its two-part madness

I look for any trace of her in them

It means lovable, graceful, favourable

To me she was only those maybe half the time

Mine meaning industrial,

Pumping out ways to keep her like that.

But I try to say it when I can

Cause it's not gonna fucking summon her

And even if it did

I could beat her in a fight of fists and running away

And if it makes her ears burn

let them

And if saying it

Means that nothing happens.

Apart from me letting it out

Proving to myself that it was real

That is not nothing

So yes, names do have power

But only if you give them it

And her name was,

Annabel.

*looks around, she does not magically appear, nods triumphantly *

Notes:

I wrote this poem trying to figure out why her name was such a big deal. Its one of the first poems I've spent a significant amount of time editing, because I liked the idea and thought it could be better then it was. If a relationship ever doesn't make you feel good, talk to other people about it. :) hope you are having a managble day:)