I’m on the right track,
seated in this empty row.
I fear the safety belt won’t click close.
I’m on the right track,
with so many places to go
you’re behind me but this it what I chose.
We were on the right track,
but we turned too soon.
The trip wasn’t meant for us two.
You’d try to squeeze me in,
push down the bar till it pinched.
I forgot why I wanted this.
You pulled me onto your lap,
the track dipped and swerved.
Our track had more than curves.
Stopped atop a drop, you lifted the bar.
Tumbling forward, I lost sight of who you are.
I sit alone in this row waiting for you to return.
You too miss the easy curves.
I’m on the right track,
onward without you.
I am ahead but this is what you choose.