Solo Flight

Can we talk?

Cautiously set down

Not letting go of his grasp

    His grasp

Where he is right

He is above

I’m below

He right

I wrong

It’s how it’s always been

 

   He doesn’t start a war without his guns

I wave the flag

 

He does not want

He fights

Holds up himself

Higher

Higher

Facial holding

Muscles tensed

   Forehead shows his 3 wrinkles

  One of her

              Two for me

     Maybe

Eyes fixated

Once brown coffee

         Black coal

I have his eyes?

I think not

 

It’s her

Can we please do something?

Begging

Flag down

Gun ready

Fully loaded there isn’t anything

Shot

Shot

 

Eyes meet

Reaching for something

My hands out

On my knees begging

Pathetic

He sees it

A smirk

A laugh

Runs through his throat

Each line making me wants to vomit

Strength keeps me up

She has it

I know

What the hell

My thoughts

My tongue tied

At loss for words

For vocal

Well

His eyes never leave but his attention is shifted

What?

We need to act

Another chuckle

My stomach unsettling shifts once more

She doesn’t listen

My lips curve downward

Please

On my knees

Hands up

Please

My stomach churns

My cheeks rise with temperature

My body overflows

 

Thoughts from nights

Before

Past floods in

Turn

Spin

Fall

Fall

Drip

Drip

You can see the mind

Its inner workings

Such a glorious invention

Does he know how I watch him?

So intent on one

My face turns

Letting my guard down

I cannot show him weakness

  Cannot help

The dam breaks

As hard as I try to rebuild

I come back to this same place

Finding myself

deeper

and

deeper

 

I climb

And

  dig

Reach

Reach

 

Hope is what’s needed

Life in the cave

Deep in the black tar

He calls his soul

Where is compassion

Your soul contains

I’ve said it

And

You don’t follow rules

His eyes never move

His soul is so still

The winds all halt

Bullshit

I’m different

I’m not perfect

It’s been a year

 

When can you look forward

 

 

 

Soul

I love finding

         Searching

And

         learning

 

On my own

This is my life

 

 

My solo flight

 

It’s time for take off.

 

Reviews

[Libby McKeown]

I love the format, and honestly, this poem is quietly kinda brilliant. Watch your grammar; "each line making me wants to vomit" should probably use "makes" instead. I think the poem needs more of a hook for the intro lines; at first glance at the format the reader knows a certain amount of "commitment" is involved; the hook ensures that commitment. A mere humble suggestion. Thanks for sharing!