Ali

Cold skin of mine. Some semblance of youth. Young and pretty to you. Never see the sorrow. Never smell the fetid breath. Never think I would hurt you.
 A hundred pounds sopping wet. A stringbean in faded jeans and hoodie. Just some girl. You notice me with pity. If you notice at all.
 Another subway train. Some time ago. Who cares when. A handsome boy said hello. I thought he was nice. He damned me to this life.
 10:30 Train back to the burbs. You in a nice suit. You yattering away. Laughing at a stupid joke. Always talking. That thing never leaves your ear.
 No pity from you.
 I remember, riding at night. Rocking on the tracks. Loud music on ear buds. A cocoon of thunder to hide me. Hide from all that hurt. From this world.
 Still yattering. Still not seeing. All wrapped up.
 Your stop. I follow.
 Streetlamps. Light a sick, pukeish gold. You’ve got a lot on your mind.
 Hunger rips my guts. A squirming nest of thorns tearing in me. I must take you.
 You never even hear me. You never even see my face. I’m on you. I drain your life.
 I am warm. I am at peace. The thorns, still.
 I leave you laying there.
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