The moment after regret walks quietly out the front door
the world crumples two feet in front of you.
Folds up like the pages of a book
that reads like destruction.
It follows as you creep out of the wreckage.
Try to find your way home.
The signs lead nowhere.
You trip over your own feet
trying to make amends with the night.
She scoffs at your attempt.
You fall at her mercy
it won’t work.