Tag: lost

disguise

being like this,
it isn’t fun.

i want to cry
but my body forgets how.
i want to scream
but my throat chooses silence.

i don’t want to shake
but my hands reveal my secret,
full of shame
and embarrassment.

i don’t want to drown
but my thoughts continue to pour in,
plugging the drain
and overfilling.

i don’t want to be this way,
fighting my battles alone.
scared to show my pain,
happy to share my disguise.

i wish someone could see
past the skin i wear so well,
and grab my hand
to calm my storm.

night drive

the path opens,
my car turning onto it
as dirt and gravel whisper under tired tires.

off the map and off the road,
not a streetlight in sight
nor is there a reason to stop.

the moon attempts to accompany me,
as do the stars,
but to no avail-
this is meant to be done alone.

just the hum of the engine
and whatever’s left of me clinging-
to the wheel?
to the body i carry?

i don’t know where i am,
maybe that’s the point.

the silence feels oh so heavy,
as if it knows
i wouldn’t mind
if it let me disappear into it.

🧳

i tucked my life into a suitcase,
shirts still holding the shape of my hangers,
memories tucked between zippers.

the floor creaked like it knew,
but no one else did.

no note.
no goodbye.
just the soft click of the door
closing behind me,
like a breath held too long.

the morning was gray,
grass still full of dew,
and the silence
finally had a chance to speak.

the car started up,
a slow cry as if
it was pleading for me to stay-
to at least tell them my thoughts.

goodbye would have hurt too much-
made me second guess
and likely stay.

the road is smooth,
humming as the adventure begins.