The Travesty of a Traveler

You made a mockery of me and I was getting really tired of getting sick and tired of you.

There was a casualty of my capillaries from you.

a small vessel had taken the road less traveled and painted my eye red

When I get enough money to buy you a rowboat and a enough paper to play hangman,

on your own,

and enough arm strength to push you out to sea,

I will do just that

Then maybe you will leave me be

to my music and my ability to smile,

damn.

I used to be so very good at that---

once upon another sunset,

in a waterless world,

on the isles on the other side of this,

in a place where no one needed to disown everything you had to offer---