some paths you know like the back of your hand.

so familiar you could draw every rock and leaf on the sidewalk.

every crack.

i know my way home. nothing im more sure of.

i'll never get lost.

i love that path, tranquil like the dripping water of a loose faucet.

so, maybe just tranquil to me.

but my silence was interrupted. 

i heard the scream, it blared at me like the static of an old vhs.
 
just more bloodcurdling.

and im smart, i know when to run.

but sometimes, you wish you'd stayed.

and the screams don't go away.

they get louder.

they get louder when the news come on the next morning.

  they get louder when you learn there's been a murder.

they get louder when you learn the murder, was right on your beloved path.

the one you know by heart.

and for once, you wish you'd gotten lost.

-LOREN