it's a dark alley and his hands shake with

over-absorption;

the spring rain overflows the gutter

and his sneakers splatter grime all over the sidewalk.

-

the shadows overcome him and he doesn't

know where to turn but the footsteps draw closer

and he presses his lips together.

they'll stay that way.

-

a bottle smashed and the blunt point of a gun

pressed to his neck

and the kind of voice he never wanted to hear.

on your knees, bitch.

-

it's a flash of bruises and torn flesh,

hands grazed from the brick walls and

lip bleeding from bites. the streetlight flickers on

and he sees his destruction as the

man walks away, throwing a beer bottle backwards

and laughing cruelly as the glass smashes hard.

-

it's a dark alley and his hands shake with

rape; shake with a story never told.