Someone I didn’t like.
I became someone I didn’t like overnight like having a horror story every dark light. Such a freight where spikes grow through daylight and turn mole hills to mountains and friendships to dust.
Loss does this as does lack of trust.
Relationships torn under pulled dark asunder no reason to worry of fortune or falling.
That sound you can hear in the distance but can’t place?
That’s the end calling.
It’s calling for your face.
© G.P Williamson 2018