under the trees

In a forest all alone,

She weeps under the trees.

She tried to walk the path,

But she can’t get off her knees.

They’ve buckled under weight,

Invisible to the eyes,

But the pain shows on her face,

Made audible in her cries.

The tears from betrayal,

Are the bitterest to weep.

The wound from one trusted,

Is the deepest cut to bleed.

The most vulnerable of places,

Where a wound would matter most,

Can only be exploited,

By one who was kept close.

On the dark forest floor,

With leaves brown and dead.

Her past and future fall,

With each bitter tear that’s shed.