Solidarity or Solitary?

on the 10th day, you do look back, 

and you see traces of your steps following you on that same muddy trail,

and you have returned to that place,

you aren't shocked seeing them, thinking they are not yours,

you see your footprint, carved in the mud,

its of a shoe, and you are wearing flip-flops now.

you look down at your feet,

knowing you have fresh footprints you are about to leave ahead,

which will not match the previous ones,

and you think, anyone else who witnesses these two sets of footprints,

if they get as far in the mud as yourself,

will not know they are the same person's.

you realise nobody will know,

nobody will know of those 10 days,

but you do not stop realising there, 

you go further to think that nobody might even care to differentiate.

where you stand now, you see you are not far from that cliff,

which you had seen 10 days before, 

you are exactly where you left your journey,

you are exactly where you turned back.

somehow this time, you aren't as prepared,

you're not even wearing your shoes this time around, 

and even then, you find yourself back where you left.

there is a voice that calls you,

its not a person's, its the rocks falling from the cliffs,

as any cinematic shot would show it as.

is this the time you go for it?

you're already here in your flip-flops isn't it?

it's also been 10 days. 

you take your foot, you step forward,

making that first mark,

you feel good about that new footprint, 

and in that same temptation, you walk ahead.

you wonder why you took 10 days,

why you came back,

are losses only powerful for a brief period?

no.

meanwhile, you see the cliff is a few steps away.

are you looking forward to the view from above?

or are you looking to just make it,

simply to turn back yet again?

there will be nothing more than the view from the cliff right?

of course you will turn back after some point isn't it?

maybe the 10 days were for your courage,

you're not really here for the view, isn't it?

is that why you are wearing flip-flops?

footprints, whether people will notice, the 10 days, the mud,

do they hold power over the cliff?

does that stop you?

make you turn away?

it aches to be writing to somebody,

who is not there to read it.

i was that stranger who saw the two footprints, a few weeks later,

who saw steps going towards perhaps the end.

the mud does not forget you know, 

and maybe this note can hold your memories.

i do not know why it took 10 days, 

but I know for sure, it was only one person's.

i found one black flip-flop halfway down the cliffs.

i am tying this note to the tree that is the closest.

i would go back home after this.

i didn't go there for the view you know?

but i turned back because of you. 

strangers understand the most you know?

i wish we'd met.