the absence of longing

I understood 
why we ran away
but  I was always hoping
to be proven wrong.
Now, I hear 
the steady tick of the clock
as time marches on 
and leaves in its wake
a torn garment
stained with oily lies
speckled with blood red tears.
Yes, for awhile, I thought
the journey would lead us to-gether
but now I see
the glimmering fork in the road.
I have shed the skin of us
and, though naked,
I am no longer cold.