On the bus I sit near the guy no one wants to. He bobs his head back and forth. Greasy hair flip. Jaw twisting turning in demonic ways. When he pulls his pantleg up to his knee to furuiously scratch away at his greying flesh. I wonder how long he’ll last. I wonder what he was like as a boy.
Head on a pillow and clothes on the floor I sweat and shiver, something is wrong. I want someone to call, to come save me, but the woman who used to won’t and the one that will is too far away. This is my future, drool going cold on the sheets, muscles stiffening. I pass out hoping I wake up. I need to make things right.
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