Exit Plan.

I can’t wait
for the rest of my life
to reveal itself.
Not in despair—
but in the hush
of remembering.

I know when.
Not the number,
just the air it rides in.
The sky has shown me
once or twice
how it all folds.

What if I never hold a name
not mine?
What if no one calls me home?
Would absence change the hour—
or does it arrive
no matter who’s waiting?

There’s no need to chase
the shimmer everyone runs toward.
The script was never mine to speak.
This life—
a room I wandered into,
already knowing the way out.