I sat there alone waiting for you to come back
it wasn’t until years later i’d find out where you’d been. i pealed a scab and stuck it in my mouth, i remember looking over to find an old ladies eyes resting uneasily on my misgivings. my shoes scuffed the ground and squeaked while they dragged me out screaming through tears the whole length of your name. i hated sitting in the back of their car, you always let me ride up front. less of letting and more of not wanting to move all of your shit to the trunk as we road from bunk to bunk, kids poking fun at the way i stunk and now when the foul odor lingers i smile and wonder where you ended up. I was fine. there were teachers and social workers, the guy at the deli and police officers. everyone but you. i often feel stupid that i waited that extra half hour for you. now i claw at that memory and space out on a scar, bellybutton gazing when my mind goes too far. wrinkled out, the only time you fed me without complaining. maybe you did, i only heard a murmur. your contempt back then let me know what i was.