I haven’t walked this way.
The faces are white sky bright and the taste of burnt coffee sticks to the roof of my mouth like tar.
I’ve never felt so sick.
I haven’t walked this way.
The steps are grey like the day and the circles under my eyes.
I’ve never been so blind.
I haven’t walked this way.
Those boards create an illusion, a pyramid, and I always question their sturdiness, but they held up that winter night.
I’ve never been so cold.
I haven’t walked this way.
Green seems impossible in all this grey, yet there it is, blanketing.
Is that why I still hope?
I haven’t walked this way
Since my hand was held, my face was warm and next to me was you.
I’ve never felt so lost.
