Split up / Crack up? NO way …! / “Where’s the door?”

And where you decide 

to SPLIT UP 

from your partner of thirty years 

and those years don’t beckon the joy you’d expected 

from the future, now passed,

and far less sassy 

than you’d wanted, than you’d prayed, than

you’d made every effort to make that truthful-

like,

you sudden

like understand how real fear,

even when welcoming, 

even when needed,

even when sought,

even when taught and learnt so thirstily,

should replace the 

places that, comfortable-

like, did NOTHING you 

on a million 

of such occasions,

as if multiple messages to unbound kids out there –

naturally sound,

in the round wherever they were left to their 

own devices – 

on how very bad their natures really goddamn are,

on how very UNWELCOME their creativity is …

And so where all the above is taken and given,

and where all the above is an easily striven,

and where – ultimately – no empty

ultimatums are able to

sully the resolve you now demonstrate, 

you immediately see as never clearly 

before, that you’ve

nowhere to go BUT YOUR 

FUTURE

“Where’s the door?”

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