edging on crazy

the man loved her

told her all the day

could not leave her alone

edging on crazy

talking about her

he had all of that going on

full time

driving by the house

checking parked cars

asking questions

on who she’d seen

who dropped by

& he called it love

she called it control

& all we could do

was hope he’d grow

snap out of it

before he killed

what he had

wanting to have it all

who?

had I become

shrouded in memories

haunted by the you’s

of sordid histories

chances taken

squandered

openings disregarded

wilfully missed

to sit here alone

in an old coat

pockets with holes

bare table but for a bottle

sipping on something

to make that last

knowing nothing

ever does

but the eternal of

why?

what?

when?

joined now by

whatever

remains to be seen

sitting on a shade bench

cool under the trees

becoming part of the furniture

watching the people

showing out

see them checking

themselves

their reflection

in shop windows

tugging at hems

hands smoothing bumps

patting pulling hair

wanting to make

the best of

look good

& we understand

that for teens

they know deep

the world is watching them

but these older people

past first flush

the wonder is

who are they

showing out for?