fire/escape

I run away
kind of a lot.
smoking cigarettes
turns out to be a great excuse
to leave wherever I am
at a moment’s notice.

when someone says something
that touches too deep a chord;
when the effort of trying
to make small talk
becomes too much
all of a sudden;
when I can’t control my face
my eyes
my voice;
when I’m beset by
too many feelings,
I find it’s best
to run away.

I’ll even go
around the corner
and hide in a doorway
halfway down the block from the bar
where my friends are,
to be sure I’m alone,
to avoid talking to anyone outside.

a quick cry
a moment of freedom
from holding it all in
can do wonders
to reset my tolerance
for so many people
so much activity
so many thoughts
voices
emotions
energies
rattling around
in such a small space.

my box of Marlboro( Menthol Gold)s
should come with a label
like that on a
fire extinguisher:
“In case of rampant feels,
find a quiet place,
and smoke one to three
as needed.”

if only I could find a way
to preserve my sanity
without destroying my lungs
in the process.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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