Unless You Plan to Bang


her hair streaked down her face
like sleet on an early march evening
the night walked in her shoes
and mocked her brisk gait
the old girl’s heel scuffed
by the tiles with
each quickening bootstep
she moved hastily
dressed in darkness
easing past me
through the metro doors


followed without fail by
yesterdays, every moment
dogged by the past
stealthily chasing after me
their shadows steadily approaching
fighting for the smallest
simplest sliver of light
seen shining through the
lonely darkness yet
even now when the sunrays
caress completely
still the shadow grows
threatening to end all

both of those need endings…I guess I will come back to them later and rewrite them, but for now, thats all I got.

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