Cold Turkey

It’s torture –
no slow dance steps to end
a waltz slow and steady; no
wait-I-need-more-time time,
no give-me-another-chance
to do-be-better.

It’s not fair –
no warning bell telling me
to get off the tracks, a train
is going to barrel through me.
No commercial interruption
to let me get another glass of
wine-water-vodka before the show
sweeps me up to land on my back,
breathless with surprise-awe-
disappointment.

It’s killing me –
deprived-unsated-needing
a fix, a hug, a shoulder to keep me
moving along without you, without
me falling to pieces like a broken
jigsaw puzzle box, middles-corners-
borders piled together in a heap
of lost intersections.

I can’t do it –
refuse to let you go, let you
move on without me-us-we.
I’m on my way, will find you
wherever the ends of the earth
stop.

~ J R Turek
June 26, 2021 Hour 8