On My Time in Exile

Exile...

I never knew
how nice
exile
could be.
It's probably
because
I've never been in
exile
before.

I'm a grown
woman
who once had
a bustling
life
all planned out
for myself.

One day,
I split.
I split
at the seems,
lost my head.
Fell in love with
another.

I left a note.
I took off
for
what was supposed
to be
an afternoon.
an afternoon
that turned into
a week,
that turned into a month.

A coward
you may ask?
Yes.
too cowardly to
face
you and tell you that
I was leaving.
You knew already, though.

My head was so loud.
And you wouldn't back off!

I maintained my work
while living in a tent.
what a wonderful reprieve
from
a so very unhappy,
life.

I shacked up in
a bus in the driveway
of my granparent's house
for 2 weeks so that I could
think.
Thought for a minute that
maybe
we could work things out.
You did too.

Back to square one.
Not happy then, won't be
happy now.
Can't come back.

I used to be a nice girl
named Vanessa Beardslee.
I changed somehow and became
angry.
Couldn't put a finger on it.

You can call me
anything you want.
I deserve it.
But someday
I will find that
nice girl hiding
in there
behind the pissed off
girl in the mirror.

I send you an apology
that will
no doubt fall on
deaf ears.
We all have one life
to live.
It's so cliche.
But it's true.
I'm sorry my path
has veered away.

I'm sorry for the
pain I have caused you.

What did you say?
I'm a driver
not a passenger?
That is true.

My time in exile
was well spent.
Time enough to sort
my cluttered head.

So we roll,
and life goes
and things work out
and the
proverbial first day
of the rest of our lives
starts now.