The thing is.
I'm really, very good
At being by myself.

I'll never forget that wild sense
Of freedom, like the red seas parting
The first time I traveled alone
At age 17.

Just like
When you came back
I cried. Your limbs on top of me
Freedom and my own identity
Ripped from
Me.

They wrote about me in my schools newspaper
Before my soon to be college boyfriend
And I dramatically parted ways
That I would be by your side
In Greenwich Village
Selling YOUR art.

I found a note
It said your name twice
I write storylines on notecards now
No need to reassure myself

Because I stand and waft in the wind
So well, so good on my own.

And there are people
That never ever experience this feeling
Of total and complete aloneness
That I have taken a liking to
Claiming it as my hiatus
A willful strength that echoes
It will come to be in time
In time
In time.

I want so much
I wanna do so much
My body lingers and yelps
Plentiful urges
And I board the plane alone
'Cuz I'm so good at it.

So don't tell me mama or whomever
That I'll meet a handsome man
I don't ******* care
It just will be

But I love me.
And that's all I really need.