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The Impossible Exit: 33 Poems Of Heartache And Hope
Paperback
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ISBN13: 9798338800829
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: Sep 29 2024
Pages: 58
Weight: 0.19
Height: 0.14 Width: 5.50 Depth: 8.50
Language: English
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: Sep 29 2024
Pages: 58
Weight: 0.19
Height: 0.14 Width: 5.50 Depth: 8.50
Language: English
In the literal sense, The Impossible Exit is a left turn on the A303. However, it's also representative of a state of mind: the place where so many of us become stuck after a relationship ends. That brain-breaking stage when the head knows you need to move on, but the heart can't let go of your previous partner.
Ben Wilson's latest compendium examines this all-too-human condition by splitting its contents in half, combining a selection of poems about heartache with a suite of pieces focussed on hope. This is Wilson's second poetry collection, following 'life. love. other.'. The title poem is included below: The Impossible ExitIt's there every time I drive east.
Black on white. Eight letters. Two syllables.
A left turn and I could be with you in ten.
And every time, it's tempting.
And every time, scenarios dance through my brain.
Stop next to Co-op. Buy a bottle, a desperation bouquet.
Get halfway there and phone. Do you need a rescue?
Knock with no warning. Have you fall into my arms.
Throw stones at your window. Hope it doesn't crack before I do.
Post a card through the letterbox. Meet me here in ten.
That's the one. And you meet me there in ten,
And we walk through the verdant woodlands,
And meander through our memories on replay.
Four legs splashing in the shallows,
Stolen pecks tip-toeing over fallen trunks,
Echoing our names off the tall pines,
Taking your hand to help you across the stream -
You interlocking my fingers,
Asking me not to let go,
Pleading with me not to let go.
The walnut bench, your head nestled into my chest,
Palm to palm, brown hair intertwined with my collar.
The goodbye kiss we never got to share. It's there every time I drive east.
Black on white. Eight letters. Two syllables.
A left turn and I could be with you in ten.
And every time, it's tempting.
And every time, I drive on by.
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