Walking

I find myself walking an old familiar road
between the coffee shop and
the sunken pet store,
a place we walked, once, then never again,
a place I think you might be walking now,
with someone else.
I find my thoughts on every dark trail you were
too scared to go down,
because you were worried that maybe there was
something horrible lurking down the path;
And somewhere in the woods I’m
wondering if maybe I’d run into you,
what would I say? How would I say it?
How can I justify the things you’ve done to me?
I can’t, and I won’t, but
if only I were a better liar,
perhaps a future could appear through the smoke.

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