Drowning in Puddles

friend speaks

fails

to listen

–

tells me i should look on the bright side

–

peering

down from a high rise

obscured by the sun

–

words

soft as his sensibilities

unscathed

unmarred

unscarred

–

shudders at the the shallow burs

barely digging at his heels

–

they nag

occasionally

but his feet don’t bleed

–

look friend

at those puddles behind

beneath

my ragged shoes

leaking through holes formed from wear

turning black

drying with age

–

when i speak

it flows from these wounds

–

i’ve bore witness and

been subject to

the cruelty of friends and strangers

been injured by family

taken advantage of in youthful naivety and good nature

slept on peoples’ couches when i was driven from home

passed out in a line when i barely had money for food

never had the advantages and been sheltered from the harshness as you have

–

you stumble over bumps in your path and call them mountains

–

you have been told nothing

but sweet nothings

and it has made you weak

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