The boy watches from the corner,

Watches

Watches

The girl, huddled against the wall,

A slimy glob of snot slowly

Slithered it's way down her face.

She whimpered.

Even keeping his distance he could hear,

Noticing every little detail,

So familiar…. So familiar,

An old wound, a faded ache,

There but not there.

He could see the scratches, little trickles

Of blood flowing down her legs,

Her hair limply hanging like dead rats tails.

He ignored the pain on her face,

And turning into the shadows he walked

Away.

One doesn't interfere with new victims

Once they've escaped the bully's eye.