The Final Run

There’s a scene I’m investigating in my head. Someone bolting out the door and making a run for it. A home built with someone for many years and they decide to surrender. What makes it unbearable? What makes it worth losing it all? Have they become so scared that they just make a run for it? I don’t know the million reasons. Maybe shame or maybe impatience comes to play and the only reasonable act is the disappearing route. No wordy explanations. It just sucks to think about the long unimaginable void, all the million questions asked… “why?”, “why exactly?”

i’m sorry
i can’t cry,
serve my guilt
upon a silver platter
for you to feast
what’s left of my
dignity; in retrospect,
would i have it any
different, disintegrated–
shoestrings tied once, i
finally came undone.
couldn’t hold it together,
neither for you nor
this final run

© mr gahon 10/15/14

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About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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