Airplanes

When I was seventeen I wanted to fly away

So I got an airplane tattooed

Onto my forearm;

I went outside a lot

To watch the planes

High in the sky,

Leaving little clouds

Behind them;

Finally one day

I realized my airplane

Would not take me away;

So I cut into it,

Watching the engine

Pour crimson onto

The floor.

Life moved in slow motion

As I died;

I watched my parents find me,

I watched the medics,

Take me outside;

And when I looked up at the sky

An airplane flew by.

I imagined I was on it