Leaving is a painful thing. As I get farther away,
there is no longer a door–
a way to go back.
I reach out
to touch the place
where I was
and though my hand
is right on it,
I can't feel anything.
I go back to visit
and nobody knows me,
for those
I knew
have left as well.
Without an Hollywood ending,
I wake up in a cold sweat
and realize that,
indeed,
I have left
and now will need
to be where I am
rather than
remember where I was.
