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One day, I will walk away.
I will casually whip my scarf around my neck and walk out on me.
I will pick up the broken pieces and abandon ship.
I will turn back and see that I have left my body behind.
I will watch the quizzical look on my face,
I will watch myself wonder if I left the iron on at home, then shrug it off and cross the street.
Deep down though, I will know that my soul has bled out of me.
I will let my spirit lead me down the old road, skipping along the way.
An eerie wind of foreboding will dance on my skin, but I will refuse to acknowledge them.
I will ignore the ghosts of my past. My elation won’t allow them to cast their shadows my way.
I will follow the train tracks all the way back to my childhood.
I will run my tongue over the sweetness of my youth and innocence.
I will hear the sound of my mother’s humming; remember her rocking me at her breast.
I will never want to leave. One day I will walk away.