I can't quite remember
the moment
everything
shifted

when I stopped waking up
feeling anything but tired
or when I stopped going to sleep
praying for anything but the end

maybe it was the day you left
physically, I mean
or perhaps the weeks leading up
the weeks that numbed me to my bones

perhaps it was the months that followed
and the way little parts of me
seemed to just
drift away

I stopped looking both ways
while crossing a busy road
stopped being careful
while walking alone in public

I didn't notice when I stopped running
to the safety of my bed once the lights went out
instead I slowly wandered through the house
no longer afraid of the dark or what it could hide

because what can a car
or a creep
or the dark, where my fears would once reap
do that will ever compare to the way
you broke me