18 Days

I decided to take a trip

Riding on air’s ship

 

My destination is shrouded in confusion

No one can agree whether its real or just an illusion

 

I’ve done some research and it would take 18 days to get there

It’s a place of no return so I make sure everything is square

 

Before I depart

And as I start

 

On my journey I feel hesitant

Like there’s some chain on the leg of my pants

 

So to escape my fear I jump right in 

On day one I remember a story about a pen

 

This one I took from this girl 

And the way she made my head twirl

 

I think about why I never said anything to her

But I don’t regret, no time to wish I were

 

More social or bold 

Where I’m going I won’t be cold

 

From inattention

But on day six I marvel at the suspension

 

Of my mode of travel

I’m surprised nothing has started to unravel

 

I guess its the simulated darkness of my eyelids that puts me at ease

Or maybe the warm embrace of the summer breeze

 

By day ten I know I’m past halfway

And I realize there are things I didn’t say

 

To those I love, explaining my journey

To a higher place, “higher place” they’d probably say that’s irony

 

I hope they at least try to understand 

My motive for seeking access to this uncharted land

 

The true difficulty of my trip sets in at day fourteen

I feel as though I want to scream

 

But I seem to have no air in my lungs

Weird, just a few days ago it was a different tune which I sung

 

At day seventeen I realize that the 17th was the day I was born

A day I won’t see again, the thought leaves me torn

 

Was this trip a mistake?

Doesn’t really matter, it’s too late

 

Day eighteen comes and I meet my destination with a mixed response

Mostly physical reactions to hitting the surface of the water

Bones snapping as my decision haunts

What’s left of my mind as it reaches out to that girl to tell her

 

It was me who stole her pen

Who just wanted some of her attention

 

But none of that matters 

I’ve reached the end, where my body shatters

 

A fate my mind has already suffered

Speaking of minds, I bet yours has buffered

 

And come to the realization that these days

Are in fact seconds, and the trip is just another way

To say

 

That I jumped off a bridge

 

Hoping to find release

Or maybe peace

 

That’s a question I’ve left for you to answer

Its your job to find a cure for this particularly fatal type of cancer

 

Because I never figured out how to beat it

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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