I will cover myself in a thick skin of ice.
cold, brittle and uncaring.
Where I might hide unscathed by the churning waves of our battle for emotional high ground.
I would freeze myself looking forward, with the last look of determination I can muster.
Instead of staying free flowing, unshackled and unprotected: free to look back for you and see if you've followed my lead.
But I'm too afraid to see you turn your back on me and smile for someone else.
I'd rather cage myself in an angry form looking forward instead of back,
even though I know full well the way ahead offers neither condolences nor comfort for the fight I've just lost.
Lost not like a failed assault or a sidestepped attack,
Lost like a Boy Scout alone,
abandoned and stranded in the middle of the ocean
with nothing but a pocket knife
to keep him company.