He walked by wearing a hood
talking as though on the phone,
but I couldn’t see one;
it could be in his pocket,
and he could be using earphones,
and everyone looks crazy when they talk this way.

As he walked,
I saw his body move,
snake like,
the way we do when trying to avoid colliding with someone,
but there was no one there.

I scanned him for other signs and
noticed his laceless shoes
— the velcro type.
I wanted to cry,
but I couldn’t:
they’re watching, they can see my laces are tied
and there’s no excuse.

He’s not safe amongst
those who tie laces and nooses
and people in knots with their words,
so I wanted to shout,
“GO HOME, IT’S NOT SAFE,”
but I was afraid he would follow me,
so I just watched him walk away,
avoiding ghosts,
while I shoved him to the back of my mind with someone new.



© Ernist Lost-his-way