what i leave behind

sand shifts in its place
monster white envelopes
(we sealed our fates)
invite green paper to your
pocket, under pillows
portraits gather dust
rocks in my shoes remind
me of the long road ahead
and the burden resting
on my shoulder whispers
terrifying salutations--
when i leave i won't be
coming back, i will hardly
know where it is i am come
from, i will only know where
i am going. for the first
time light doesn't hurt
my eyes, and for the first
time i can barely speak
the name of the place
or the smell of the street
that will meet my feet.
the comfort fades slowly
and softly but i fall with
a bang and am shocked.
shocked, i realize i am gone
i left years ago, before i
really was called. what
have i done? what have
i missed? for the first
time i regret the time's
passage and the extra sleep
i inhaled. familiar faces
fade into the background
i cannot wake from this
nightmare--i really do
not know where it is
i am going. i only know
where it is i have come
from. i walk past busy
streets where people
sing and play guitar. I
leave a tear on the pave-
ment as i do my best to
find those people and
those places and all
those glorious memories
of sunshine and wind
and purple satin dresses
that
i left
behind.