She stumbles down a path that fits the width of her courage. The ruts and the stones are the obstacles she knows. 

He changes a mood and she can’t read the words quite right. She can’t quite decide to yell or be calm or to just simply write. 

She never used to be unsure and she never used to need anyone but her. But now she wants him, too. His quiet chills her more than everything else he could do.

It’s a quiet path where indifference seems to have taken over and she is being led. The pathway is narrowing with each thing that isn’t said. 

The forest thickens and she’s squeezed too tight. Silent walks lead into silent nights. 


8 thoughts on “Breadcrumbs.

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