stunning surrender

you're not happy
it shows on your face
everyone can see it,
even the one
who helped you
reach this point

and you're open
like a body on the table
naked
and you can't cover yourself.
you lack the strength

you look
only at the ceiling.
you try
to ignore the shame
the confusion

you fail at polite
conversation
your mouth is
always dry
people are afraid of
your agony
and leave you alone

you tried to leave markers
bread crumbs
on the trail
that brought you here
but you can't find them now
they've blown away
or were eaten

you are dizzyingly alone.

and, perversely,
in the quietness
of this isolation
you feel a smile start
just inside your mind
and another
in your chest
aching and twisting up
to your empty, carved face.

it's not joy and
it won't reach your eyes
for a while yet.
you still have a day or two
more of this pain.

but the smile is there
and it won't go away.