Stay Like the Need to Leave
12/23/21
12/23/21
But it fades too fast,
Like the smiles, like the sunsets,
Like all the beautiful things.
Like you and my joy.
But the regret lives here,
And it’s here to stay until it dies when we do.
The regret that kills your soul like when your dad left and your mom blamed you—
Blamed you for him not loving you or her or your little sister anymore,
For him leaving all of you and your unborn baby brother.
It’s your fault for not being enough for him to stay,
Stay like the hurt,
Stay like the disappointment,
Stay like the need to leave.
About the Creator
Emery Pine
I’m a poet with sprinklings of fiction. I write with the soul, so I hope you find it interesting and relatable
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Shuttle Ride To Nowhere
Putting all his strength into it, Javier pedaled faster as the cold November wind blew in his face. Plastic cards clipped to the spokes made a constant rat-a-tat-tat. Around the corner was his destination. Braking to a stop, Javier hopped off his ratty old bike - a single speed, once red and black now faded to a mottled pinkish and grey, that had once belonged to his cousin Mark – and leaned it against the wall. Placing hands against the plate-glass he pressed his nose to the cold surface and drank in the sight. In the window, illuminated, shining like a beacon to safe haven in the soft glow of the strung lantern above …, the fancy lettered sign saying “MOST OF THE BEST, SOME OF THE REST” there it was. Shining silver with blue retractable wings; three actual rubber wheels on metal legs that folded up into compartments; red cylinder at the front with the yellow and orange ASTROMAN logo; tail fin rising majestically from the back complete with movable flaps and Jupiter Force Team insignia; three conical ports jutted out the back. A battery powered engine blew warm air out the ports so it would roll on a smooth surface. An Astroman Supersonic Space Shuttle. So close, so awesome, so … Cool! If only he had the money. If only Dad hadn’t got laid off last year. If only… Sighing, the warmth of Javier’s breath misted the cold glass. Absently a finger doodled in the damp cloudiness thus created.
By Andrew C McDonaldabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
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