Freedom Screams

Packing lists and boarding passes

Freedom screams, but I can’t quite catch up

I get closer every day, but it’s never close enough

At least not yet

Less than two weeks out now

I’ll be drunk on a plane in 10 days and 15 hours

I’ll be high on adventure, drowning with wanderlust

My backpack thrown over one shoulder, headphones tucked snugly in my ears

The whiskey isn’t to calm my nerves, you know

The whiskey is for whiskey’s sake; I’m plenty buzzed without it

I get a thrill from swimming through the clouds

Chasing sunshine

Bathing in its rays and staring when I should instinctively squint my eyes and turn away

Eleven days – but who’s counting, right?

I can already taste the salty waves and air

I can feel the sand and I hear the sounds of tourists

Oh, the tourists

With their RayBans and wristbands

With their coupons and t-shirts and “all-inclusive” itineraries

They’ll be there for six hours before the ship moves on to the next town

I’ll be there until someone has the nerve to pry me from the shore

I know I’ll fight leaving

They’ll say that the plane won’t wait for stragglers, that it’s time to go

To that I’ll say, I care only that paradise enjoys my company

I’ll smile and push my five dollar sunglasses back up my nose

I’ll tie my bikini strings and surrender to the gulf

I can already taste the whiskey buzzing

I can already feel the waves pushing back

The freedom is screaming my name


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