I wish I had better cursive
or maybe better words to write
The words I have are broken
because words are not naturally beautiful
They earn their beauty through the
sloppily slurred stanzas
and wistful whispers
of the days we forgot
and of the days we are too stubborn to remember
But the days added up
multiplied, stacked, and broken
Baggage chained to each syllable
Baggage we brought to share
But we're sorry ma'am
that's too heavy to bring on the plane
And so we severed ties with the forgotten days
divided, deconstructed,
but still broken
And I took the flight
But my words are no longer beautiful
and my cursive doesn't make it better