I can hear them in their disapproval, without words even,
a forboding of whats to come. Cant have a future without a past,
cant disconnect the path behind and the path ahead.
S'that simple: NO
I'M SORRY
I CAN'T
MAYBE LATER
MAYBE NOT
On paper so simple
On skin is a map of sadness
drawn tight to catch tears and fatigue.
On me a resume flawed
A heart forgiving, resusitating what they say
died,
did die,
while I stood screaming in the dark.
But they can't hear me wait.
They don't know where the map leads.
I do, darkness and all.