I know you now

Read your poetry

The ins and outs

Parts of you that were left bleeding on a New York sidewalk years ago. No one came to your rescue. Red blood turned black. Drying in the sun. A needle in your hand.

Ghosts have haunted you. Spirits from a distant past. They called out your name in the middle of the night. Made you feel ashamed; scared to go on living.

These things you did. Sins commited. Thefts and robberies. Cheating people out of money. The lies told. These were vain attempts at saving yourself from shelters, cardboard boxes, tent cities, under bridges, and church basements. Keeping up appearances at The Port Authority among travelers, tourists, vagabonds, bums, junkies, meth heads, sick people with no hope. They were robbed blind too. Slaughtered lambs.

And now I know you

I read your poetry.

Saw inside of you.

These truths.