A lion painted on a slab of rock.
A gift -- her final show of affection.
She had found someone else
by the time I jolted awake from jealousy and reflection.
Is that how you felt when I left?
It was just me, my lion and God.
A dumb guy, a bad memory, and a fortress that allowed an arrow to slip through.
After some indecision I rested my lion behind a blanket in the trunk of my car.
Its cage for the next three years.
Eventually I'd forgotten about the rock.
It just sat there sitting in my trunk.
Weighing me down.
Until happy memories pulled away the blanket and turned into sad memories.
Their wedding is this summer.
So I'll bury it in Lake Whatcom.
The weight will be off my shoulders, the lion will be free,
And my back will be stronger for any rocks to come.
A girl I dated gave me a painted rock when we were drifting apart. She found another guy a few weeks later. After a few years of storing the gift in my cars trunk, they married and I threw it in the lake that we were at when she gave it to me. Yes, I'm aware this is very lame.
