A Longing to Escape

We were running away from ourselves
stumbling onto worlds
that we’d never worried enough
to conceive of.

We’d known few possibilities
given that up until now
everything we’d done
had been under intense scrutiny.

We lived a life
of constant jilted response
quietly whispering
to one another
in the dark of night
the fantasies
we only dared dream of.

When we decided to leave
that was as far as the thought went
we didn’t have any real plan:

“What matters most,”
you would say
“is that we actually do it this time.
No more just talking about it.”

We weren’t astronauts or even explorers.
(not by title but isn’t there always room for imagination?)
We wanted to leave
pack our home in a couple of duffel bags
jump into a car
be somewhere else
someone else.

Maybe it was that last part
that stumped me.
Even after we’d left
there was a longing
to escape.

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