85/365: Precious and Bright
I had to leave them all behind.
I just up and left, turned right,
and the whole walk home through that late August night
I let each of them go.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
I dropped them in a trail behind me
like petals at a wedding.
All the secret goodbyes
flitted away on the wind
that rushed loud over my ears,
and I didn't care if I was mugged
or hit by a car
or stolen away in a mysterious van,
because I was free,
and I would be alone and valuable.
Alone and valuable was hot on my tongue.
I was precious and bright,
a light in the night,
and I cried myself to sleep with relief
at the knowing I had found.