Poetry · Writing

Flight with Turbulence

It grew in the matter of days.

Out of control vines

a strangle hold

a choke hold

autopilot.

Flight with turbulence-

dips and dives into ground

lost over the Atlantic

found in the Winter.

chasing-

not a hard chase-

but I won’t let you go

even as the plane passes by overhead and I’m crashing down below.

 

maybe you’re crashing too-

maybe the sea will break my fall.

 

we don’t have to eat at Chicks

we can meet at Cane’s down the street

don’t give up the chase

lets meet up and get something to eat.

but I’ll go alone-

it’s not the end of the world my friends

I’ll shake it off and bury it-

but here I won’t pretend.

Make believe on the eve I’ve seen your eyes

on my wrist

and they’ll tell it all

that this world is ours.

Buried-

the shovel won’t go to far

the Earth won’t let it

just rest quietly in a grave for one.

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