before the goodbye

Before the goodbye there is sadness thick and sticky as peanut butter. Sadness that clings to your throat, a glottal stop and all the ugliness that these words imply. Goodbye. So many awful goodbyes and more to come. Every trudging step tramples on yet another potential path that I will not take. I am stuck in a well worn rut and I will stay on the track. I will not splatter the floor with paint. I will not turn my bathroom into a darkroom. I will not write that elusive beautiful thing, I will not chase down the remote possibility that some unknown someone might some day desire me. My words on the page are muddy and tangled. Everything I touch turns into a knot. I am sad and unclean and tripped up. I am a long keening note. I am goodbye.