The road beckons with its enticing promise
Of what lies and it end; and yet I still feel
Weights holding me rooted to this spot not moving
Do I doubt that what is there is real?
Checking every few minutes to hear if any changes
Have made the trip unneeded or the return moot,
Despite knowing that it matters not in the end.
What will it take to put it all on mute?
At last a click, a shift, a step, a motion
To initiate the journey north to where
I know my heart will have to break open,
That to my love its wounds lie bare.
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