When I Haven't Bought My Ticket

Maybe if I
slipped out
slowly it would be easier.
I'm afraid of the great
leaving and the saying
goodbye.

Even though it's getting
tiresome, seeing the same
human shapes and
the human voices pattering on
the young with their elastic flesh
and the old,
and the nameless children.

I can turn to quiet
internal matters to relieve
the monotony of the same stories
and let everything pass.
It won't hurt and I will be
spared the weeping.