Airway Getaway

Choked up on broken tears,

Making empty promises on half-hidden smiles,

Waiting for my departure.

I didn’t have enough words for “a while,”

Not prepared for heartfelt goodbyes,

Trying not to appear through my crocodile disguise,

“Promise me you’ll work with me when you get back…”

“You’re probably gonna leave me and not come back.”

The boldness of your bride-to-be at dinner the night fall before,

Making her snide remarks,

Beyond her usual, obsequious metaphor,

“Are you really coming back?”

“Do you like girls? If so, it’s okay…”

Leaving her with no inclination of what’s what,

Or what’s real:

Bride farewell,

“I’m coming back. I’m here to stay.”

He tugs at my heartstrings,

Curling them between his grasp,

Wrenching me with fear,

Poisoning my ability to laugh.

The tightening grows,

As I flutter for a seemingly, meaningless good-bye,

Dying to be out of this moment,

Out of his stare,

Away from his eyes,

His line of sight.

Turning my back,

Hoping to never look back,

Walking the runway,

Ready to runaway.

As the coal in my throat grows,

The crystallized waterfalls begin to overflow,

This diamond starts to slit my throat,

As I look for one last glance,

He wilts away like a rose.

It seems good-byes are all we know,

Farewell to the Daddy’s Girl we both used to know.

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