her shadows and mine
old skin and thin hair contradict her personality
there is so much of the little girl about her
uninvited, she sits beside me on the waiting wall
I ask how she is and in turn she asks me
I tell her I’m tired
she offers sympathy
but I know that she understands tiredness better than I
so I give her a cigarette
and her brown teeth celebrate by forming a crooked smile
I gesture a light with my small box of matches
she wants to smoke it later
we have run out of things to say
we tell each other to take care
and retreat toward our own respective shadows
moving forward
the many scars on your arms
are a poorly drawn map
an ink-spilt-blood-journal
they detail all the disappointment
yours and mine
mostly yours
I have my own way
my own blood-letting
my own little book of lies
your name is in it
especially in that dark second quarter
where my skin crawlers took to the bait
where our misunderstanding and ill-informed intentions
raised merry hell
but those days are gone now
and the blue-lit lines are learning subtlety
and even though the hatred is so hard to control
most of the time
I really do hope that you are okay
Matthew J. Hall is a writer who lives in Bristol, England. More about him and links to his published work can be found on his blog www.screamingwithbrevity.com
–Art by Bostjan Tacol