Using a compass for a clock
got me where I am today —
plus never saying, “Goodbye.”
Lost is not the same
as being aimless
about my wandering.
I was always too tall to hang
myself, too lazy to learn
how to pull the trigger of a gun.
Nor should a wayward journey
be confused with never
making it home.
It’s no wonder I’m not dead.
Unless on the move, I was never alive.
Now go, invisible friend.
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Editorial Assistant: Lizzie Kramer/Editor: Bryonie Wise
Photo: Courtesy of Fanny Schertzer and Martin Crush via Pixoto
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