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I was 19, when his “hello” changed me.

we spent fragrant afternoons
drenched in sunbeams,
wash of sand rubbing
his heart smooth — 
his voice an anchor,
holding me still.

we built a fort
out of beer cans and
pillow talks,
unspoken tomorrows
whispered into skin,
promises that lingered
long after i left.

i found his “hello”, etched
in ink
upon yellowed sheets
of paper where sun had dried
tears, tracking marks
across photographs.

his smile stretched
across the lifetimes,
waves that burned
their icy fingers
into my memories,
i dove, headfirst,
feet first, always first.

never lasts.

i wandered through
the abandoned beaches,
winter waves that beckoned,
pulling me in
with their mesmerizing songs,
crashing, ebbing, whispering.

the cold wind kissed
sunburnt lips
fingers that trailed
through the leftover promises,
igniting icy longing,
sandcastles of forever.

buried in the sheets
in Boston, two words
changed everything.
i was 22 when his “i’m sorry”
broke me.
new hurt that rippled

across lines that criss-
crossed oceans of silence,
years spent ignoring
intensity that never faded.
until the fingers slackened,
unexpectedly.
intensity renewed.

“how are you?”
a mantra that saved
and gave new light.
“i’m great, you?”
a warning,
a longing, verbalized.

“i’m perfect”, an answer
that crushed,
lifetimes of yesterdays
into sand that rubbed
away all insecurities
and past pain,

I was 24 when his “hello” stopped mattering.
The Moment when People Die
This piece was first published on Medium, by Poets Unlimited, and was featured on Medium's Homepage, Editor's Picks. 
WHOOHOO! If you'd like to see more of my poetry and prose, in a far more regular manner, please follow me @CharlleyThen
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Life
Comes
Knocking
— Crashing in
When you don’t answer.
Some people just can’t take a hint.
Fibs*
*This form of Poetry is called a Fib, and is based on the Fibonacci Sequence of 1-1-2-3-5-8.
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You didn’t believe them when they said
Someday, your views would change.
You thought they were old
and couldn’t understand.
You were wrong.

You couldn’t comprehend
the knowledge they were pressing
wrought from experiences
that you couldn’t be saved from
Sometimes, harm, is the best thing
that can come from living.

It hurt. God, did it hurt,
when your bones fractured
and you had to rebuild
ribcage and sinews
sewing yourself back
from the dust that billowed

open mouth screams
that silently told you
“Do not touch me”,
“I am done”.
The biggest lie you told yourself,
“I am not strong enough”.

You didn’t succumb.
Your feet have carried you further
than you thought possible,
through the blood and sweat and tears
and bitter regret, empty heartaches

You fought and you won and you lost
and you’ve died, a million lightyears ago
and still, you’re alive, breathing
in through bandaged ribcage
you run tearing scabs and healing
over and over and endlessly.

Today, your views have changed.
You didn’t believe them
when they told you that time heals all.
You still don’t believe them,
but you take it with a grain of salt.
Time doesn’t heal. It endures.
Endurance
First published on Medium, under Poets Unlimited. If you'd like to see far more regular updates, check out medium.com/@charlleythen or better yet, follow me. :D
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You are 24 and have learned
that Time passes
and keeps on passing you.

You are 24, with thoughts
that count as vaguely-new
but are nothing new.

Your soul is weary
but your muscles are still
capable of keeping up,

You push and push
and hustle because you
are only 24.

You are 24 and your friends
are married, with kids
and getting fancy.

Your plates have matching silverware
and there is a theme to dinner
that doesn’t come from a box.

You own furniture
that don’t have Swedish names
and aren’t self-assembled.

You’re 24 and caught
in-between feeling like a child
and a grown up playing hooky.

You are 24 and self aware
enough to claim that
hard work will get you somewhere

You don’t know the destination
but you own the journey,
or maybe, it’s the other way?

You are 24 and you know
how undeniably lucky you are
and you trace back

The years in your face,
23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18
all the way to your first love

Trying to remember how
and when and why
Things mattered so much then.

You are 24 and know
that Life is happening
in these moments

And you are 24, and trying
to embrace them,
as much as you can.You are 24 and have learned
that Time passes
and keeps on passing you.

You are 24, with thoughts
that count as vaguely-new
but are nothing new.

Your soul is weary
but your muscles are still
capable of keeping up,

You push and push
and hustle because you
are only 24.

You are 24 and your friends
are married, with kids
and getting fancy.

Your plates have matching silverware
and there is a theme to dinner
that doesn’t come from a box.

You own furniture
that don’t have Swedish names
and aren’t self-assembled.

You’re 24 and caught
in-between feeling like a child
and a grown up playing hooky.

You are 24 and self aware
enough to claim that
hard work will get you somewhere

You don’t know the destination
but you own the journey,
or maybe, it’s the other way?

You are 24 and you know
how undeniably lucky you are
and you trace back

The years in your face,
23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18
all the way to your first love

Trying to remember how
and when and why
Things mattered so much then.

You are 24 and know
that Life is happening
in these moments

And you are 24, and trying
to embrace them,
as much as you can.
Twenty4
this piece first appeared on Medium, published by Poets Unlimited. If you'd like to check out some of my prose and poetry that I don't post here, please follow me @CharlleyThen medium.com/@charlleythen
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You are not a fighter,
but you became a warrior. 

You wear mismatched socks
and genuinely have zero fucks
to give to those
who haven’t earned 
the right to judge.

You cut off long tresses
and long relationships
that were leading nowhere
because a short bob is easy to manage
and requires 
no maintenance.

Life has jaded you
and left you free-er
than when you were 6
and envisioning
who you would be

Because who you are
is no longer defined
by a society’s ideal
but rather
what makes you happy

and you learnt
as the years passed
that Time passes

you’re OK
because you know
that your feet will carry
you to places
even with mismatched socks

You became a warrior
through experiences

And you’re a survivor
who knows that
each body is different

and all that matters 
is that you work good
and hard
and smart

and you’ve earned
the knowledge that you

do not care to judge.

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C. Duhnne
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
just expanding my universe.
Interests
My phone passed away.
I have been cut off from the world for a while, as I rush from place to place and meeting to meeting.

You forget how dependent on the Internet you are, until you're cut off from WiFi.

In these moments, I found Life

I found time to sit down and drink my coffee.
To write poetry and prose.
To smoke my morning cig in quiet contemplation.

I found time for myself that would've otherwise been spent answering E-mails, updating calendars and texting people.

It was a much needed break. 

Friends

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:iconwormfodder:
Wormfodder Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016
Yeah I only know the names of the movies(Frozen and Princess & the Frog), like I said I haven't paid any deeper attention to Disney after Tarzan, it felt like the animations became stale and already "chewed through", if that makes sense. Like there's nothing to ponder on. I'm not sure if I've seen any Disney movie apart from The Lion King in cinemas, back when I was 6 in -94. I was going to say Toy Story but that was Pixar. I remember back then the computer animation felt fresh and cool, and now every animation seems to either be CGI-generated pus or drawn in a really lackadaisical "Well, we don't really care as long as someone buys into this bullshit"-style.

I've got literally every Disney movie from Fantasia and Snow White to Tarzan(even the live-action ones), in digital form but anyway. Love going back to the oldies, my favourite is probably The Black Cauldron, simply for it's references(The Horned King and the Princess Eilonwy etc.) to The Chronicles of Prydain-book series from the 60s, and because it was an animation that had adult themes and a credible antagonist(The Horned King almost made me shit my pants when I was a wee kid and saw the movie for the first time).

Btw, chucked you a watch, your writing style is interesting so I don't want to lose your profile. I'll come back to read some more later.
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:iconrebel-brat:
rebel-brat Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you thank you. For both the watch and the long, interesting comment conversation!

I've heard of the Chronicles of Prydain, but haven't watched it. Though to be fair, I haven't watched a lot of things. I like the Toy Story series, but mostly that's just cause Andy's my age, and Toy story 3 came out the year I went off to uni. 

I get what you mean. I'm thankful we've lived through the crossroads of animation and CGI, and I think it's amazing how much has changed, but I think my favourite still remains rotoscoping. I was never a Disney princess and I never bought into that hype, but recently I've been questioning if it's because my youth was shaped by the Feminist movement. My mom didn't believe in Barbies. 

Either way, I'm thankful for that. Hope you enjoy the rest of my stuff. You'll get to see the transformations of whiney teenager to whinging loss millennial if you trawl through the trenches enough.
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:iconwormfodder:
Wormfodder Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016
Oh, I think it certainly shapes the child in some ways, the way our parents act and believe if it affects the years growing up. My sisters had Barbies & dolls and things but neither of them is anything approaching a Disney princess in attitude or way of dress. More utilitarian and/or bohemian. I know for certain it affected my early adoption of atheistic views that my father who is well over 60 has always been a free thinker & atheist. I remember distinctly he never said "God doesn't exist" or things like that to me when I was growing up, and my mother coaxed me into going through a Lutheran first confirmation at 15. She forced me to cut my hair for all that musty pomp and ceremony too. After that I started growing my hair out(and now it's a big ol' mane of golden blonde naturally curly hair), and the day I turned 18 and gained judicial right to decide my own matters I officially separated from the church, told them to remove me from their books. This way I don't have to pay the Church tax either, hahaa! So yeah. Somehow for me it always felt apparent, that our parents affect us in many ways. Maybe that's simply because I can directly draw so many points of relation from my behaviour and character to my mother or father, or even my(dead since 2003) mother's mother. 
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:iconrebel-brat:
rebel-brat Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
it certainly throws a definite wrench into the whole nature v nurture argument, dunnit? 

i know for me, as a child and as a teenager, i wanted to be like the other girls--barbie dolls, girly sleepovers all that crap. only after maturity did i realize how thankful i am for being so unlike them. 

my parents left me alone to decide the paths i wanted in life, though they left strong building and guiding blocks. i think it's a rite of passage though, to rebel against even the things that make sense. it's so senseless and mindless, but alas, youth. 
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(1 Reply)
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2016
Thanks for the :+fav:
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:iconrebel-brat:
rebel-brat Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
It's a pleasure!
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:iconyouinventedme:
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2016   Writer
thankyouthankyou
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:iconrebel-brat:
rebel-brat Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
you're always welcomed
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:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2016
Thanks for the :+fav:
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:iconrebel-brat:
rebel-brat Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
no worries
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