He saw I was down, injured by shards of misinterpretation. No! Misrepresentation! The information was ambiguous and clearly indicated a meeting.
I bled out, and he asked, ‘What are you up to?’
Then left me there for 24hrs.
Thankfully, I managed to get help. Miraculously, I survived the night. Regrettably, I sent a text. Notably, it went unanswered. Lazily, one word was sent in response. Secretly, I pondered over my next move.
I’m awake now. I reckon I’ll be okay. My new scars cover old scars, hiding my love for the unknown and perhaps the inconsiderate.
Tears are there, and a great escape is pending, but I push back. Well, step back. This is too much.
Now he’s gone.
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