No Turning Back

Scour your mind
for the scoundrel,
the common thief who crawled
mysterious into the unconsciousness,

into the places that were neutral,
safe from intruders,
that stranger who destroyed your confidence
with so much heaviness,
the soiled weight of doubt.

That was the unexpected storm
that caught you off guard.
That was the end
of the lightness of innocense,
like clothes left hanging to dry on the line,
that uninformed confidence
that left the house without an umbrella
and was, instead, soaked to the skin
and shivering with regret.

There is no way
to turn back
in time to close the windows
against the deluge of this betrayal,
this lie that was that forgotten key
to losing everything
you thought was yours
alone to leave behind.