The Runway Walk Out of My Life

I watched you walk out the door, the clicking of the lock behind you
sounding a lot like the word “goodbye” dripping from your lips.
It felt like a punch in the mouth and tasted a lot like betrayal,
but somehow an apology wasn’t worth the postage.


I woke with ice behind my eyes
and dust beneath my tongue
and pebbles in my bones.

The bitterness of the morning seeped
into my mouth and agonizingly dragged
itself down my efflorescing throat.

I reached over to borrow some oxygen
from you, but found only sharpened
icicles and cobwebs long since abandoned.