You Owe it to Yourself

Let’s go. 

Doesn’t matter the place. 
We can wrestle over details later. 
For right now, 
do yourself a favor and 
ride out on out of here, 
to your favorite hide out
miles south of fear
or northbound
to a little town
to disappear
so I could repeat 
our meet and greet. 

I’ll reintroduce myself
as your cowboy, 
your eyes
will blink themselves
into my sunrise
so you’ll always know that home
is a faceful of sunset
and a smile full of my pride. 

I’ll lick the postage 
you stamp the seal of approval. 
Let’s work
on the removal of you
from the mundane. 

We’ll saddle
your imagination, 
book inspiration
into your now to take flight
upon planes of existence
that knows no resistance
to your determination. 

You, 
you need to know 
that you’re free;
that the weight of your obligations
are proportionate 
to how much you tip your scale;
that your excuses
only feel like handcuffs
til you decide
you’ve had enough. 

I need you to know
that you don’t have to go
anywhere life may lead; 
your heart
doesn’t have to kiss the floor 
every time it trips 
over something handsome;
that your dreams
don’t need to learn French
to consult more ceilings. 

I need you to know, 
you owe no soul apologies, 
reasons for being:
late, 
early, 
on time
on your days off. 

Off days
will feel like
they’re on time
to being early;
your being
will always be late
for no reason
but when your soul, 
throws a manhunt for apologies
to betray itself,
I need you to know
you owe it to yourself
to never let go
of you. 

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LOL 

Three letters long
was your reply.
The idea acronym
for when you catch
a case of the funnies and,
you were laughing out loud
all over again.

It’s not that I don’t love
your episodes of jubilance
to be authored by me.
I’d gladly sponsor
every moment
your lips part open
to release an ocean of felicity but,
your waves of elation
are no longer exclusively mine
to love and cherish.

Your reply
inundated me with questions
that I’m ill-prepared to accept like:
Does he at least
have his associates
in making you laugh
like I did?
What octaves
can he make you reach
without tickling/cheating
it out of you?
Show me his diploma
in humor
and I bet
I could spot the watermark
from your local flea market.

But to all of these you’ll tell me:
“He’s a good man.”

You see you left me questioning
where did I go wrong.
If I can still provide you
an inkling of joy
to pen into your day,
when did that stop being enough.

I realize
that I’m the butt of the joke
in this predicament.
One day
I’ll laugh out loud about this
but today,
your last laugh will be with him and
to that I say:
“May you laugh hard,
and laugh long,
just remember me when you do.
#lol”