Oklahoma,
you’ve wrung me out.
Your sunsets cut too deep,
your wind still carries her voice.
Every road here is a scar I can drive with my eyes closed.
I’m leaving
because I want to live.
Because I can’t keep breathing
where the air tastes like grief.
She was the catalyst.
Her choices,
her silence,
made this place uninhabitable for me.
Don’t look for me.
Don’t search for me.
I’ve buried my trail under dust and silence.
You won’t find me.
I’m going off-grid,
into a place with no echoes,
where the past can’t track my steps.
To the ones I love —
you are the only tether I keep,
and even that thread
must stretch far enough
to let me go.
I love you.
I always will.
But I have to save what’s left of me.