How could you?

by steadfast twilight

When are you coming home?
The dishes need washing, my mind needs mending, and the cabinets need to be sewn back together.
It's 10:28 and your flight's in two minutes.
You unclose your eyes from dreams that were hiding behind black pupils.
People were blurs passing you by through your mental airport.
You believed your plane was landing
as the sound of the vacuum seeped into the dream projected onto comatose eyelids.