Stain

Published: July 10, 2023

The cigarette butt left a stain

More a hole, marker of past tales.

Didn’t belong to me, nor to the jacket finding my mama’s way

She questions, blowing from an agitated place.

I sit her down on the porch

And explain

The story of the smoke stain

Of broken hearts and pain

Laughter and disdain

Accidents that couldn’t be averted into rain

The girl who kept resting on my shoulders after the notorious heartbreak.

Friends who couldn’t put away the coffin nail

The boy who drives faster bikes, leaves tears untended on the way.

She puts a finger in the hole, tossing the jacket away

‘We don’t need any more life-ruining 3-D paints’

I ran to grab it back

Needed to keep it safe.

The coat didn’t belong to me anyway.