We are misfits in a traveling suitcase.

One day, we, you and I, thought we should run away.

So we did.

We looked around, the room, and it grew.

The walls collapsed with all the weight of

the things that we didn’t need, or didn’t want.

These things that had blurred into the background,

the nonsense of daily life

all the stuff we held onto.

Hey, it’s…

just in case

for that one time

maybe later!

The floor is coated in

spur-of-the-moment decisions,

but not like this one.

We bend and twist to fit together, and

unlike the pre-meditated, pre-medicated

response to daily life

– “these things will make me feel better!” –

we collapse into this small space, and

we leave the rest behind.

We are misfits in a traveling suitcase.

We snap the buckle shut and close our eyes and

the darkness overwhelms us like

stars, sparkling, dizziness.

We open ourselves back up and we’re

somewhere new

together.

This is the (fear! terror! misery!)

that one day we will open the suitcase and

we will be somewhere, oh…

somewhere not so good.

The edge of a cliff or

the bottom of a well.

We’ll be stuck there together.

Forever.

But we keep closing the suitcase

hopping in

jumping forward

spinning around and

trying to figure out where we are

anyways.

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