He was not sorry.
56 days dropped behind,
He followed me into the crowd
And pierced me with a stare.

I drudged along and jumped from the shadows,
He caught me in his snare,
He understood nothing,
And hurt us both.

We were trapped in his anger
And he refused to heal

Now, I hide beside my friend,
They meet eyes.
We walk away. My friend stands strong
As he shields me.

But waiting to find me alone-oh enemy…
Claiming to be sorry.
I pull away - he leaves,
Hands in tight firsts, again.

Thoughts circle in my mind
56 days caught in his wrath.
Was he sorry?
Was he coming back?