JUST ANOTHER DAY | Poetry by David A. Estringel

It's been a week 
since you left 
and tore a hole
in my atmosphere,
letting in 
the gamma rays, 
the end of days:
all in a haze
of tears and 
holographic "I'm sorries."

Was it you?
Was it me
that left 
For a new love to find?
To be cruel, to be kind?
Escaping a bind
that catches the skin
like fingers of crushed glass.

I find myself,
standing outside
the home we made,
wishing these arms —those walls—
could hold you, again.
A chance to feel --
a moment to steal -- 
but our fate is sealed
with all being said 
and done.

If only 
I could evaporate 
into the clouds
of that noon sky
and rain down
somewhere —
anywhere —
without a care
far, far away
from here.

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