
I can feel tomorrow’s intensity
like a sunburn
that kisses my skin
and stings my denim blue eyes.
Those inexperienced events
wash over me,
somehow more real
than anything happening right now.
Tomorrow, two long held desires
may reach fruition
and my reactions are impossible to calculate
yet just try telling my overstimulated
and compulsively analytical mind.
I’m held prisoner here in the present,
denied experience, answers or closure.
“Please let me go.”
“I’ve waited long enough.”
“I don’t care if it hurts!”
But nobody answers,
because some things need to be endured.
Perhaps the February furnace is cold
but I won’t learn how alone I truly am
until 36 hours have passed and leaves me to reconcile
in the aftermath.
Written by Jason Wright
November 28, 2017









