i am content with being away from you
lost on my own continent
stranded on an island
your words seep through my skin
hurting like knives and shards of china glass

i am content with being away from you—from this, from us
i am content to hide inside a seashell and never come out
melted bones into hermit crab forms
fate accepted

i am content with being away from you—from the way you treat me
it is halloween in my nightmares
always dressed up as a princess or a queen when really all i feel inside is that i should be a
vampire or a zombie
meandering along the path of self-destruction

i am content with being away from you—from your fangs, from your grimy hands
i am content with staying put on an ocean raft just rising and falling as the waves swallow me up and spit me back up
selflessly free as a turtle riding the inevitable current

i am content with being a person far far away from you
making my own decisions with a smile gleaming on my face
waking up and walking outside on my own accord
listening to the sound of morning doves instead of the chaotic sound of sirens

i am content with myself—content with the life that doesn’t have you in it
gritty sandy harsh words grating against my smooth and vibrant skin
you will not give me heatstroke from the flames you breathe from the fire congested city
the tides will carry you, sandstorms will bury you, and tornadoes will whisk you away
far far from the whereabouts where i call home

i am content to be away from you.
i am content to be alone.