Wishing You Were Here

Poetry

“the trip was beautiful, thanks for asking” —

it’s too easy to lie through your teeth and smile.

you thought it was so simple, just getting away,

but you were packing invisible baggage along

with that carry-on you bought online, a splurge.

no one asked why you were going alone or why

you took the four-day weekend to go overseas.

but your friends gave you the side-eye when

you gushed over free miles and airline discounts.

in truth, you weren’t fooling a soul who could still

see the redness around your eyes, a brand left over.

when you did get off the plane, though, you couldn’t

help the overwhelming sense something was wrong.

and you looked down at your hand, empty, wanting

for another hand, a familiar hand, to hold all the way.

you saw beautiful things that would stay with you forever,

but you would look over to the empty space and sigh.

even the postcard you bought at the hotel gift shop

was left unused even as it beamed, “wishing you were here!”

you did miss him, of course, but not enough to send the card.

but when your plane landed back home, you couldn’t help

smiling when the text came in: Did you make it back safe?

you didn’t answer, not then, but something sang inside you.

Originally published at https://vocal.media.