Fifteen years is a long time.
Too long, you say as we sit together one last time.
You say that I no longer understand things,
That we take them for granted;
I sit still, not knowing how to respond to such thin accusations.
I wonder that all this time I truly believed
We were one another’s backbone,
A genuine (your word) source of strength and support.
You put me in a cab in the dead of the night,
Offer best wishes for my future as you slam the door.
I fight the need to turn and look behind as the cab pulls away,
Keeping my eyes on the meter, clicking softly
As the miles roll by
I wonder what the final price of such a journey might be.
