i am good
at most situations
except for
silently waiting

my bags are
as packed as possible
minus essential
toiletries
and chargers
the route is
mapped and altered
to allow more
scenic passages
hotel is booked
delivery is
confirmed for
ten thirty meaning
i am already
anxious with just
over twelve hours
before i leave

the kids are gone
the quiet is
invasive in its
stark totality

my heart races
too manic to manage
writing the story
looming as i
idiotically agree
to another invite
burying myself in
projects because
my wounds refuse
to fucking heal
and ever forward
the good fool marches
unto certain doom