break-up at LAX

my wet eyes; you are blurred from my vision
walking backwards from me
our once intertwined hands drop
heavy as lead

planes reach their destinations:
a neat- freak's suitcase, all alignments of black and blue
a pack- rats treasures, all muddled and bundled
i remember your suitcase holds my ratty yellow kitted sweater
a confession: i allowed kitty to pee on it before you left

but now my mind is a blank slate:
i sit and eat panda express emotionless
the grease and soy sauce tastes like bile in my throat
my lemonade, iced tea, and sprite concoction makes me shiver
as the abundance of ice crashes and tumbles into my teeth

the people around me talk excitedly about their travels
but i am motionless in my cheap plastic seat
the neat freak aligns his utensils around him with purpose
but i am content with the noodles that splatter the table before they hit my mouth

congratulations:
you have become a passenger abroad the LAX plane
destination unknown
at least the pack rat has his treasures;
all you have is vile kitty pee on the sweater of your's truly

and you don't have this blubberous intoxicating food
which tastes good now that all you have is salted peanuts;
which you hate (i assume) in a perfect airport world

but at least in your suitcase have your favorite purple tie
oh, how i wish i was that ratty purple tie!
i would hang around your neck and weigh you down
like these pot stickers in my stomach