18.6.00
it spins - the world spins, well, maybe it's not spinning, exactly -
it rotates.
that doesn't sound as hurried as it feels, though.
what do i feel?
i feel as though my heart,
not the one that goes ba-boom ba-boom inside my chest, behind my ribs,
but the one in my soul, that is my soul -
i feel as though it's attached to the world by cords,
and it's being pulled through the baffling silence of space
through the cold and lack of atmosphere,
being pulled without rhyme, reason, or my permission -
it's just gone
it's spinning
rotating
riding
whatever
every day dawns a little later than the last,
pulling the sun down further into the day
and i'm almost always awake during the rise
filled with listless apathy and the ache
of knowing that my time here is ending beyond my control
i'll have to board a plane
with a ticket i wished had been a one-way,
clutching my bag and some books and a handful of sorrow,
bawling as i trek through customs and put my carry-on bag
through an x-ray machine
leaving behind my heart,
still being pulled by cords
no longer attached to me
but floating somewhere while i try to keep myself together
the time has gone so quickly,
and where does it escape to?
it swirls down the bathroom sink,
soaked by my tears and kept alive by my thoughts
but like photographs and pen ink on paper
it does fade away
"i don't want to leave, i don't want to leave," is all i can cry
hoping that with my futile protests
the world will suddenly stop and god will say,
"why, you don't have to go, child!
you can stay here and forget about legal binds and other nonsense.
it is my planet, and you can roam where you want to.
you can stay with your love. be as you are, dear child."
it's not going to happen. there's forms to fill out
and photographs to be taken
and money to change hands
and all i can do is cry and hope they'll let me stay
by some miracle
maybe i can stay
i'll visit with my friends
and only be able to cry
i'll stay with my sister
and play with my nephew
and cook them pumpkin soup
and while we watch movies together
or play silly playstation games
all i'll be able to hear
is the crack of my heart
as it breaks from those cords
and burns up on reentry to earth
i'll go to sleep accompanied by the sound of my own crying
it might seem to an outsider
that i'm being melodramatic
and jumbled and confusing -
well i am
i am melodramatic, i am jumbled, i am confused
i just want to stay,
stay in his warm embrace
and never have to go back there
without him.
so the world still spins
and the time hurries forth
spinning
rotating
riding
whatever.
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