Escape Plans

An academy of insults
the strychnine of silence
harbor only false hope
in this place of desolation
standing idly at the line’s end
holding your boarding passes
and carryon in one hand
and your lover in the other
what kind of comedy
is happily ever after
when you’ve grown tired
of telling him goodbye?

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a remembrance of things past

Sometimes I remember
what it was like to smile
to feel the sunlight on my skin
that warmth, was it your hand
on mine that made me simmer
inside, made the worms create
cocoons to emerge as butterflies

Sometimes I remember
how it felt to feel the rain
splatter on my lips, quench
the thirst of arid summers
feel the specks of sand
clump between my toes
like a second flesh, to see
rainbows cut across the sky
a tapestry of endless colors

Sometimes I remember
the echoes of your voice
and mine, that laughter
after a well-told joke
a casual smile, splashing
rain, was it your laughter
from the lungs, from the stomach
to my unbeating, broken heart