The fact we hardly admit our wounds and keeping skeletons in the dark is an impending doom i forsee since long ago. Many times i wish i knew the veracity but for most glad to have choice defying as i had lighter steps and breath easy.
Now distinctly having it confronts me on ambush, there's no time to grieve.
Dejected, but not wanting to break others.
I don't know whose feeling i should save first.