Paradise Island, 

a place just for us…

We hadn’t planned

on

finding one another

during our secluded voyages

but

your boat crossed my make shift raft;

we caught each other’s eyes

and knew

we could sail along together,

“Wherever the wind

may take us.”

 

Wasn’t long before we

grew tired of sailing,

we felt it was time to build

a place of our own.

“An island,

just for us.”

 

It was never meant to be 

picture perfect, 

perfection was never the point;

it was gonna be all for us,

the three of us

built from the ground up

any mistakes we’d make would

only help build

a better foundation for

OUR 

future.

 

Supplies were limited.

 

You had the more stable

ship;

my make shift raft

I tore apart

so we could build

a safe place for us all,

“Trust me,

the two of us

we’ll make sure it doesn’t fall

and eventually we’ll build it

more wide and tall…”

 

You smiled

but

it was different than before,

for the first time since we came across

our island

you looked out past the shore…

 

“I just…I can’t do this anymore…”

 

Your small ship,

still in tact,

you knew you could leave

anytime you wanted; 

just enough room for

the two of you.

 

I watched you sail away,

wished you luck…

kissed your forehead;

reluctantly said,

“Bon voyage…”

 

You were almost gone

until

you threw out

unwanted

weight 

of the past,

to help keep you anchored.

 

Unexpected;

the shock was shared

between us

in silence,

until you yelled back

“Why can’t you let me go?”

 

I walked out

into the tides,

thinking I needed to

do something…

it proved

nothing.

 

Eventually 

your “anchor”

gave way.

 

 

I’m still shipwrecked on 

that island.

 

When the sun rises and sets

I see you both

next to me

but

I know it’s a

mirage.

 

I used all

I had

to show you

the three of us

would make this island

paradise.

 

…I don’t regret it.

 

I’m glad it

helped move you to be

free;

I’m glad it helped you

begin to untangle

the truth hidden

in

Ivy.

 

…It’s never what you expect,

one’s own…

Paradise Island.

 

-Gustavo Lomas

 

4 thoughts

    1. Thank you. I felt it the perfect metaphor for the heartache I still feel. And for the situation itself. I cried after I were it and read it outlaid. At, “…and for the first time in a while, you looked out past the shore…”

      Like

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