reasons for leaving your senses

the hot wind of frustration
meets the cold front of isolation
a hurricane builds on the horizon
it calls itself by your secret name

evacuation plans torn by wind
from their sweaty hands
the small people on the shore
grip beach sand with their toes

whatever it is that keeps them
holding to a home that is already lost
bravery or idiocy or blind stunned fear
is certainly notable

Published by mattress dungeon

Hi. I'm a poet. I was a playwright/producer before the pandemic. If you're wealthy and want to be a modern Medici, drop me a buck or two: paypal.me/ksnapreads

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