what's left to do? i ask him
he shrugs off my question so i shrug off his shrug
everything is planned accordingly but nothings going right
i just stare at him. what do we do?
he doesn't stare back at me, but i know what he's thinking. i'm going to leave her here for the vultures to pick apart.
it doesn't make any sense. he's walking out calmly, like he's going on a walk in the park. i start to follow him, but what if it ends up like last time? that's what got me here. here. where i stand right now. being left by the man i thought who loved me.
she thinks i love her. i do. but i can't do.
why can't he do? i ask myself. the vultures will be here soon. i will be torn down, ripped apart, heartbroken most of all. why can't he do? do like he's supposed to. i want to follow him more than anything else. it's all i know to do. i've been following him all my life.
she's going to follow me. i can't do, but i do. she's going to follow me.
i see the vultures through the cracked window, they're walking with the preacher. he's halfway out the back door. dropping the daylilies on the dirt floor, i walk slowly to catch up with him. i follow him.
she dropped those flowers i paid so much for and she's following me out the back door.
we're going to do, even though i can't. sometime, we'll both do. i do. i do.