Gas station bathroom stall, I’m sure your walls sang with Sharpie marks, and I need you to know that I really did want to listen. Passenger’s seat window, I would have rolled you down and let the wind tangle my hair. Aux cord, I have a hundred pop song playlists, and I would have sung along. Scenery, I’m sure you were rolling and green, and I hope you haven’t waited too long for a poet to write in your honor. My friends, it’s not that I didn’t want to go, I’m just agoraphobic. My friends, I need you to know that I’m tethered to home, and every step I take outside tightens the chain around my throat. My friends, I’m sorry. Play me the echoes when you come home.
Kylie Martin has a BA in Literature from Ohio Northern University. She lives, works, and studies in Findlay, Ohio. Be nice to her on Twitter (@abstrusermusing).