the moment.

I'm eating a $2 pot pie from the convenience store

when a lady at the bus stop bench

asks why I left in the first place

and it takes a second for me to think

but I remember the moment

the shadowy living room filled with cigarette smoke

the two dark silhouettes watching from the couch

as I step toward the front door

"you won't last a day out there"

"if you leave, you're nothing to me"

and I stop, and say,

"I don't care"

the sidewalk was covered with weeds

growing like cancer through the cracks

and I stepped over them

on the way to the interstate

the trees were pretty dark

on either side of the road

while the sun was setting

and the crickets were chirping

I remember feeling scared at first

but then I looked up

before getting to the bridge over our street

and saw the pink clouds against the violet sky

and I knew that everything was going to be ok