leaving myself

nothing ahead carried much promise
behind was a scorched wound of despair
i was alone again
older
less hopeful than i was a year ago
even a week ago
before the door did hit me in the ass
on the way out

detaching from reality
i now move in liminal hell
what’s happened stings
but there is nothing to be done about it
what’s to come
unknown
unwanted
unshared

with a hand to hold a mouth to smooch with
i find
life is less
more
life is
fuck
i wanted to put something hopeful here
not feeling it

at 125 miles per hour i can feel the tires beginning to slip
light snow
new mexico
dusk

i was just leaving myself

6-2-24

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