I’ve always wanted to see
the skies of Montana, or even
Wyoming, wherever that is;
can I find it on a map?

I’ll check the forecast,
pack up my medicine and
toothbrush and clothes,
and I’ll just fucking go.

Set out on the highway

With “head west” being
the only thing I know,
a road that may or may not
be lonely, and my cat,
she comes, too.

I’m going to die
if I don’t get away from you.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: Wyoming, forecast, and medicine.

_{Photo by Neil Wallace on Unsplash}

I can’t take this anymore
I’ve said hundreds of times
but now I really mean it.
I can’t take it,
not a minute longer.

We’ve lived a life of
make-believe and never
stopped playing games.
Dress-up, house, pretend.
It really has to end. 

I’ve been dancing
around the edges of
my escape route and
now I’m running toward it.

I want to be free
as fast as I can be.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: not a minute longer, make-believe, and dancing.

_{Photo by Erik Karits on Unsplash}

Decades ago,
it’s been decades now,
you and I shared space
in the same place
at the same time
and the fact that
was even possible
feels like magic. 

Now all I have are
memories and imaginations,
like the lump of my belly
growing with our baby
and the house we
would have bought together,
the home we would
have made forever. 

Remember marching
up the sand dunes to see
the most beautiful sunset
of our entire lives?

Do you remember dancing
at Limelight, utterly high with the
flashing lights and pulsing music,
our sweaty bodies sliding
against each other … Read the rest

I wanted to be a part of your family at the Fourth of July picnic that’s crazy like a circus, at your sister’s table on holidays, by your side on Christmas morning. I had dreams of all of these things in my life, and now I look past tomorrow and see nothing but darkness. I’m spaced out in shock, still not wanting to accept it’s over, regarding re-entry into real life as an assault, because how do I live without you? How I go days without talking to you? I won’t be going to your niece’s wedding next year. I … Read the rest