yesterday

i saw you in every grey face
where the skin was drained
and the shoulder was small
i saw you
in every tremble
of my own hands
as i smoked at the bus stop
i saw you floating under the wet pavement
the drops of rain
bloating your stinking corpse

i saw you in the letter you sent
via the early intervention team
i saw you fallen in a gutter
and your ribs had been pulled apart
and a bus had drawn a line over you

today i did not go out