Leaving

I pull on my hood and walk out the door.
Put the key in the ignition and pedal to the floor.
The tires screech on pavement but I don’t care
when you come out and stare.

Because I’m leaving and I won’t be back again.

Tears stream down your cheeks and off your face.
Grab my arm and plead for me to not leave this place.
Wrench my arm away but I don’t care
when you fall to the floor.

Because I’m leaving and I won’t be back again.

My screams and yells make an angry sound.
Under my fury your feelings are drowned.
Child cries too but I don’t care
when you hold her in your arms.

Because I’m leaving and I won’t be back again.

The phone is ringing off the hook.
A doctor tells me of the test he took.
Back’s against the wall but I don’t care
when your face fills with fear.

Because I’m leaving and I won’t be back again.

A prick on my arm a scan of my chest.
Lay me on a bed for a short rest.
Eyes are foggy and breathe comes hard but I don’t care
when your hand slips into mine.

Because I’m leaving and I won’t be back again.

She giggles with delight as I throw her in the air.
Falling upwards with wind blowing through her hair.
Chest tightens and my head whorls but I don’t care
when you call out for help.

Because I’m leaving and I can’t come back again.