Walk

It’s not what I want to hear but I’ll listen.

Mostly because I know it already.


So rather I smile, because the sun is up and the sidewalks don’t seem to end.


7 days.


Elms turn to cacti, but those blocks are all the same.


Just as long as I can stop at a grocery store and pick up a purple Gatorade. Something to let me taste the night better.


A quiet night will make your neck turn with every bark of a dog.

Don’t ruin my peace, please.


The light looks nice on that tennis court. But I don’t dare enter. Not alone, not again. 


I turn to hope that I’ll see myself walking the other way, maybe to stay for another day, but the sun makes that gray shadow stay on my tail.


So I smile and keep going on my way.

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