john smith (heiswolves) wrote,
john smith
heiswolves

dirt poor beautiful

i saw him sitting in the park today, looking pathetic and dirty like he always does. i'd managed to skip out on work this morning. strange though, this time his smile seemed vulgar. it looked like the life had been sucked out of him, like it's been sucked out of me, and his tangled brown hair was now combed and parted. clothes, washed. shoes shined. a perfect image of what normality should look like from a distance.

and still, children played in the dog shit grass with their parents not far away, the same children who were disgusted days ago by the mere sight of him. now they played alongside the bench he sat on, smiling as if he were invisible, just another beautiful piece of shit scenery. fuck, i felt too angry that he'd traded in himself for a makeshift version of what society defined as "stable."

i feel sick just thinking about it

in an alley i saw him walking later with his hands balled into fists, and he looked weak and feeble from behind. so i followed him into the corner near some boxes and scraps of metal, my heart racing like i'd just been shot, the adrenaline pumping in my veins no more familiar than the warmth of the sun. god, he was crying, and i could hear it in the way he took each unsteady breath beacause his shoulders shook in the twilight. i remember vaguely that he reminded me of a crumbling wall or building at that moment (but he was never a wall, or a building, he was always a mountain).

i wept for him and he turned around to face me, my tears making me feel like i was drowning in his scent mixed with rainwater. my arms wrapped around him. strangely i felt absent. he pulled away then, and there was nothing left but a smile on his face, so fucking wide it could've made me sad if it hadn't been so true. god, if i could've only captured the way his eyes looked when he fell to his knees, finally broken of all the hope and faith he somehow had in humanity. if i could've only held him as he fell like a mountain.

gone, gone, dirt poor beautiful
3:34 am.
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