You

I had stopped the car and fallen into the backroad mud I couldn't get clean. Cars approached but I didn't care I could no longer see. I couldn't repent any more you. The first to excorsize my grief, permit catharsis, I wanted so much for you to understand. That one night when you recited the land of Ta, you could see me through your anger the tortured machination. By morning it could've hardly mattered and you were being driven. You said my eyes were as cold as stone. They were only strong my feet were wobbly.