When the facts were laid out it made sense.
One by one
I could pinpoint where everything fell apart,
where the track first bent
sudden and broken into barren desert,
the initial dust cloud the only cover you needed
to keep me from realising what exactly had happened.
I didn’t understand where the thorns came from,
why I had to pull them out from under my skin,
when they had even found their way beneath it.
Surely there should have been a warning,
a prickle of pain or a bolt of lightening,
small or large,
there should have been something to say
this was not right.
By the time I noticed you’d carried on,
left me standing stranded
miles away from the path
I’d thought we were following,
night had fallen.
For a while I still thought
you might come back.
Daily Post: Fact