The plane ticket would be $347, one way
The bedroom would be small and uncomfortable
The significant other would be annoying
There may be the possibility of
encountering wild boar, again.
But I miss you
and (if I could)
I’d pay any price
to see your smile
to hear your laugh
and just be with you
doing absolutely nothing
just like those days we always used to love.
Inspired by the Writer’s Write October prompts | photo by me
If I could do just one thing –
if someone asked me:
“What would you do
if you could do anything?”
I’d run.
I’d pack a light bag and run.
I would leave work one day
and I just wouldn’t go home.
Instead, I’d drive to an airport,
pick a place with palm trees and sun,
and I would run.
I would disappear, poof!
Like magic, she’s there one moment
and she’s gone the next.
I want to go
where no one will ever find me.
I want to run off into the sunset
and never be seen or heard from again.
I don’t want a single person
looking for me, needing me,
wanting me, or coming after me.
I will run
like a thief in the night
and in the darkness no one
will be able to see
how widely I’m smiling,
how happy I am
to finally be free.
Inspired by the Writer’s Write October prompts | Photo by Andrea Piacquadio
This is not the club
I ever wanted to belong to.
I have nothing against
childless cat ladies; sometimes
I think they’re the lucky ones
if all they have to be
responsible for in life
is their feline friends.
I never wanted to be
in the single mom club
or the forever a fat girl club
or “the ones with serious daddy issues” club.
I didn’t sign up to be
stuck living this life
so afraid I’ll die
from the loneliness,
from the acute and
stinging lack of companionship.
Precious few humans
will be able to die saying
they got all they want in life
and I know I won’t
be one of them, but
Poor choices shouldn’t
punish me forever.
I don’t need everything,
I just need someone’s
hand to hold – a hand
that wants to hold mine.
We never know what
we’re going to get and
we often do or don’t
get what we deserve,
but oh, I have to keep hope.
I want a love that
doesn’t scare me and
a lover who won’t hurt me
and it’s brutal to know
with such deep certainty
how hard those two things are
to find in one person.
Why can’t I be
in the club of people
who get the chance
to have that?
Inspired by the Writer’s Write October prompts | Photo by cottonbro studio
the first night
we spent in a hotel together
did not go as planned
the room was not
the one we pictured and dreamed of
the view was not as good as we’d hoped,
a music festival blared through
the closed windows
I was never able to shake
the nerves that gripped me
from the very start
you didn’t want to go out
you didn’t want to do anything
we just laid in bed together
and watched Ford vs. Ferrari
while I hoped you weren’t
thinking the whole time
what I know to be true in my soul
that I’d sell it to the devil
for a night locked in a room
with a willing Christian Bale
but later we walked two blocks
to what would become our
favorite restaurant in the state
and that night we sat out
in the street under strings of lights
and drank way too much tequila
before we stumbled back to our
overpriced and heartbreaking haven
making love at least one more time
before the morning came
and you broke my heart in a way
that it had never been broken or
hurt before, and I had to
drive us home, crying,
knowing that when we got there
you would leave
I didn’t know then
that the cycle would
repeat itself indefinitely
I didn’t know when
you drove away that afternoon
that we still had countless
margaritas to drink
and hundreds of chips
to dip into salsa
at that restaurant in the city
the one that felt like ours
right from the beginning
from that very first drink
under stars and around
other souls sharing space
I ordered what I wanted
even though it wasn’t on the menu
and I embarrassed and
annoyed you every time I’m sure,
while you simply enjoyed
the best street tacos the state
had to offer, the award-winning ones
they advertised on their windows
the ones that made our
favorite little Mexican joint
too popular to get a quick seat
and it only took a few years
to realize that when we went there
ordering the largest
margarita on the menu
was the right choice for us
and this is another time
I took a stolen, sneaky
photo of you, chip loaded up
with salsa and your mouth
hanging open ready to take it
and your eyes staring at me
over the massive margarita
so blue that day
so clear and perfectly blue
Inspired by the Writer’s Write October prompts | Photo by me.
You must draw a line somewhere,
mark the spot of no return –
if someone crosses your boundary
you have to be able to say:
“Look, I showed you.
I told you what would happen
if you didn’t start respecting me.”
It’s your job to decide
what you will and will not
tolerate, even from the people
you have always loved the most.
When you’re broken and
still breaking, go to the ocean.
Remember that salt water
is the cure for everything.
Take off your shoes and socks
and wiggle your toes in the sand
before you start walking.
Go to where the waves break
hard against the shore –
you will be familiar with this dance –
one step forward, two steps back –
heart beating hard
trying to avoid breaking.
Remember how he loved you but
remember how he hurt you, too.
Feel the warmth and breadth
of the love you were looking for.
Feel the searing burn of betrayal,
the sting of old wounds that
keep reopening and won’t heal.
Consider the weight of the doubt
and fear that have been
breeding inside your chest,
crushing your fragile heart.
Finally, make the decision
that you don’t want to
feel like this anymore.
Now, bend down and touch the sand.
Use the finger that once
traced the edges of all his scars
to draw a heart in the sand
and call it your love.
Decide whether you want
to stay and watch the water
wash your heart away.
Choose to not.
Turn your back to the past,
and run.
Inspired by the Writer’s Write October prompts | Photo by Engin Akyurt
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