You are a special kind of awful
The kind that disguises itself as understanding; sucks me from vulnerable to empty, ground to air.
Cloud nine-hundred and forty two.
That’s how many times our cabin pressure has dropped. Your eraser apologies are translucent like the window of the exit.
The way a parent lies to their child as the plane goes down; thats how you coddle me.
Everything’s gonna be ok.
The heat rises.
You’re safe with me.
Alarms sound. Flames and flames and flames…
I wish I could black you out like the impact of metal into the softness of unprepared soil. Release myself from the seatbelt of your consistent carnage.
Save yourself before you save another. Masks drop. Pressured bodies.
The way I feel when we lift off.
The way I feel when we’re going down.
Always taking off, barely landing…