I live on the Isle of Estrangement,
mourning the one who sent me here,
with the words “I’m cutting you off.”
The mainland Normalcy–
a place where people forgive and talk things through,
is sometimes visible through the haze.
If I thought I wouldn’t be turned away,
I’d attempt to cross the frigid straits,
As it is, with no beacon, the one with the boat must return.
In the meantime, I worry all those who visit,
this private space where I grieve,
will tire of my sad face.
So with a sense of desperation I teach,
of how it was I came here to exist,
hoping they will stay a while,
on my island of exile,
this place called Estrangement.