I didn’t fall into love, I walked in it. No. Walk doesn’t quite describe it. Is there a word for treading upon a rocky road with your soles hammering against the rough earth? As each foot advances over the other, another wound pierces its way onto your skin, leaving a scar that’ll last a lifetime. That what you once thought as a languid walk became a perilous one instead, is there a word for that? There must be.
Among love’s paths, I chose the one with an unforgiving darkness. Not a single light to guide my way—just a merciless void. I heedlessly marched towards you, despite being out of sight. For I know that every road leads to an end. For you, my love, are my beginning and my end. So I walked into love’s perilous path until I bumped into a hard surface with my face slamming into a solid wall.
I didn’t fall into love, I walked in it. No. Walk doesn’t quite describe it. Is there a word for trudging upon a lonely road after reaching a dead end with your aching soles, weary heart, and exhausted soul? Yet you chose to find your way out, tiptoeing from puddles of tears and sweat you once left on your way in. Your eyes, once blind, are now accustomed to darkness so you could pick the broken pieces along the road. Until, finally, you see the light. Is there a word for that? There must be.
Her broken pieces
An indiscernible mess—
© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.
In response to dVerse’s Haibun Monday #13: Walking.
At last, I am able to join this year. Phew! I hope I’m not gate-crashing the poet’s pub? Thanks for hosting this, Bjorn. 😀
P.S. This one’s for one of my college best friends who is undergoing a “moving on” process (Yes dear, I’ve read your
post rant). The photo above was from her HK trip.