Exit Plan

I can’t stop thinking about
how this turned out

Sometimes, the mornings
are filled with more doubt than
the nights, I have been
moving around so much lately
while everyone else is
“settling down”
getting married
having kids – time
is slowly getting away
from me

Every inch of this aching head
is drowning in twenty three
years of exhausting
sentimentality; my skin
splits at the ghost of
your memory, your fingerprints
tattooed over the places
you touched me

once

They said to just “sleep on it”
as though these demons
cease to exist in bed sheets
and dreams, and as though
the morning sun can
fix this weary mess of a
human being

I can’t stop thinking about
how it should be