how does one move on from something that didn’t happen?

how would you depart from a place

that didn’t exist on the maps

exiled from definitions, a void that entraps

how do you move on when you cannot move a limb

paralysed, stupefied

fossilised in place like chalk white cliffs

mulling over an alternative landscape

where your tectonic plates will collide with mine

forging peaks and valleys

that promise a little more possibility

how could you have waited so long

to ask what was it that haunted me

silenced me, something you did wrong

and not have seen any signs?

were you deaf to the undertones of my sighs

or blind to the way i couldn’t hold your gaze for a long time?

how did you forget it so effortlessly

something i’ve etched on my skin

the rolling mountains that told us

we could never, ever win?

how are you so flawed, unaffected

infuriatingly young and terrified

and somehow made me terrified?

how could you not know the way

my heart feels

when you’ve made the place your home?

how do I keep asking me these questions

when i don’t know what i want to hear?