I have nothing left in this place. if you were to tell me to leave, i would not need even a second’s notice; i would step from the precipice of everything i have known all my life and fall, willingly, into the void of darkness and uncertainty. i would leave my suitcases open and unpacked, beseeching for belongings i do not own. no further task to tick off my list save for puncturing the buckets of tears i have filled up these past nights. i would drown the world in a flood of my making. nothing left to tidy up save for the bruised remains of a stampeded heart. i will not curl into myself like a tight knot, will not throw up ice walls of defense; but every additional thing i learn of independence feels like another layer of hardening crust upon my skin. a stab to the chest. because this is how life goes. tomorrow i will make small chatter and complain about schoolwork and wear smiles upon my face like dentures, while hoping for wings larger than life to sprout from my shoulders and bear me away. if i look to the sky for long enough, perhaps it would deign to unfurl it’s edges and swallow me whole into another universe.