I want to thank the pillows
For all the screams they soaked,
I want to thank the towels
For all the tears they cloaked.
I want to thank my throat
For all the frogs it hid,
And my little palm
For the kind rest
It bid.
Thank you to the flowers for
The short escape they gave,
A thank you to the rain that
Washed clean your grave.
Special thanks to the moon and
The light it lent,
As well as the stars and
Their magnificent scent.
I want to thank my shoulders
For carrying such pain,
And both of my legs for
Not breaking in disdain.
I am thankful for the walls
That stood every punch
Without spraining one bone,
Without making me crunch.
How come the walls took care of me more
Thank you ever did or that I could hope for?
Thank you, my little eyes, I know
It wasnt easy to see,
The less with which
He stopped loving me.
And my little heart, I have nothing to say.
I failed you tremendously.
In every possible way.
But you still beat, I hear.
And for that
I am most sorry
my dear.
This poem is raw and hauntingly beautiful, filled with a deep sense of gratitude intertwined with grief. It explores the physical and emotional toll of heartbreak, expressing appreciation for simple, often overlooked things—the pillow, towels, walls, and even the body itself—that have been silent witnesses to pain. There’s something incredibly touching about thanking these inanimate objects, which have been steady and supportive, when perhaps people haven’t been.
The imagery of the poem is vivid and personal, especially in lines like “the flowers for the short escape they gave” and “the stars and their magnificent scent.” These lines almost offer glimpses of relief amidst sorrow, showing how even fleeting moments in nature can provide solace.
The last stanza is especially powerful, revealing a profound self-awareness. It’s both an apology to the heart for the suffering endured and a recognition of the resilience it shows by continuing to beat. There’s an intense mix of sorrow, remorse, and even a little hope wrapped in the language, making it resonate deeply.
This poem feels like an intimate letter, not just to the self but to every small thing that helped it survive the pain, creating a compelling portrayal of survival and quiet resilience in the face of overwhelming loss.
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