The Hitchhiker


Meet me at your end,

where I will be at mine.

Slowly draw me in.

Enfold me inside.

I will not deny,

or weigh you down in flight.

I am a gentle hand

holding on to a knife.

If you let me down,

if you fly too low,

if you start to cry,

I will let you know.

By cutting you.

By voicing my displeasure

in  your ear.

You were never good enough.

If you fall

straight out of the sky,

I will tell you why.

You never deserved

to share it with the birds.

Everything you were

was a lie.

I will walk away,

find another ride.

Another flight to end.

Just me,

and my kindness,

and my knife.



HG – 2022

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