Sometimes I wish you weren’t here.
Not because I don’t love you, because I really do;
but because I wish I could unravel
in a way you wouldn’t let me.
I wish I could stay up so long and then sleep so long
that the days become nothing
but momentary distractions.
I wish that I could up and leave
and no-one could stop me
from running from my demons if I wanted to.
I wish that I could live off wine
and coffee; maybe a few fries
and last night’s forgotten take-out
without fear of judgement or sensible propositions.
I wish that I could learn to smoke cigarettes
so that I could sit out on the porch we don’t have
whiling away the balmy summer days we rarely have
dropping ash onto the ground
as I stare moodily towards the setting sun.
I guess what I want is a fantasy;
a life lived more cinematic and less ordinary
than this rigid everyday I feel trapped in.
I want to let myself go and I want to drown
so I feel what it’s like to lose yourself
and then come up for air, truly anew.
I want to forget my name and I want to forget where I am
and who did I sleep with last night
and I want to do things just because it struck me in the moment
drinking beers with good friends and strangers and
smoking pot on the tailgates of America.
I will probably never have any of those things
and I long wistfully for the highs and the lows and the landscapes sown
a book by a different author
with the same names on the pages.
I guess I want another life, an escape
I want to run from this menial plot I have barricaded myself into
and strike up a new tale with new faces and storylines
so that I can feel what it’s like to be alive
and know if any of this is real.
I love you, my darling
but sometimes I feel that we are bound to a destiny
not meant for my tiny hands to hold.
My heart is not on the same train as yours
but I’m not sure if our destination differs
or whether I’m just taking a detour.
Vickye Fisher © June 2016. All Rights Reserved.