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What are you waiting for?
I sat scratching the black gunk out of a very wise coin.
Silver. Old. Grampa's.
I never got the trick of rolling it between my fingers, I used to flip, flit, and skid
mostly down school halls and into hospital elevators
but then I lost my two-headed quarter down a grate at six flags.
I'd never run that risk with this one.
Too many burdens, too many hefty decisions lay on the face of this token.
I was stalling.
I've been stalling since she left.
Running from the very deliberate,
very cerebral sense that a wrong had to be righted.
The lights were on in a room no one was in.
The faucet had been left on.
More wrongs came in the meantime.
Bigger ones.
Wrapped my head up.
Swole my pretty face.
Wrecked my body
and my shitty ride.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't walk.
Couldn't move the sunlight.
Couldn't hide from flying schrapnel and the big black feathers dragging me under.
The heart is cold.
The mind is
full
Sleep evades.
And my starving hands hunger for a shiv named justice.
Ask.
Toss.
Catch.
Then ignore your answer.
Open his throat on a dirty street
covered in glass
weeping for his brother
sending bloody, gurgling pleas for pain,
not numb
as his legs flop
and dark stillness creeps from the edge.
It's the only right thing to do.
