I Could Walk Away

Heat wave mirage creates shapes that hang from the dreadful vine.
Buds with promise, appear to melt onto the vinyl paint
Words peel,  into curls fallen
 to the floor,  from the rounded windowsill, not meant to hold
anything except, all the promises
 never kept.
The ones that leap off and shout
 I told you so .

Vintage suitcase, in the ugliest shade
of green,  leaks pieces of your mind
small fragments you once shared with me .
They leak, into a manual sieve, where
 I spend too much time filtering, the good shit that floats away, like particles of dust in that beam of light,  the same one that blinds me when I look at you.

I could just walk away,  but then
what would I do?
How would I explain to anyone
 where I've been all my life?
They wouldn't believe me anyway
would you?