Incoherent cries are slewed
across grimy public bathroom walls.
Declarations of hearts and hates
scribbled in magic marker
(so all those dreams come true.)
Unheard cries of help still spiral
across tiles and closed doors.
Pleads for love and help
scrawled in permanent marker
(so they’ll be remembered when they’re gone.)
You taught me how to read
these cave paintings
while poised on knees before the toilet
and so I read as I flinched because
the sound of vomit always echoed.
And before we left the last time
you took my hand in yours
and slipped a pen from your jeans pocket
and whispered two initials and a heart
across the middle stall.