The Wrong Turn

I said 'left here,' a knowing nod.

My internal map, a subtle fraud.

We went that way, a stubborn choice,

ignoring every doubting voice.

Felt the wrongness, like a hum,

but pushed the gas, let reason come

much later, when the street names changed.

My certainty, rearranged.

And still, that push, that silent will,

to prove myself, even uphill,

against the signs, against the facts.

Some deeper need, that never retracts.