Clandestine cycles

His eyes are drawn through the icy glass under the bleachers where a shack stands

He gathers his energy and draws nearer and out of the rain with blood soaked heels

He stands shirtless in the dimly lit alcove shivering but thankful for the wind break

His step father his mother’s new creature drunkenly lost himself in a rage

Its dark out and the night is unforgiving wailing gallon after gallon off soggy clouds

His socks are rose colored and littered with the mud body soaked from head to toe

This shelter will not suffice he surmises and decided to seek out warmer horizons

A door unlocked leads into the gym he’s tired and finds sleep menacing to accomplish

Lights down the hall cause a stir voices echoing off the wall as if a reminder of the past

These lights get closer and police show their face handcuffs take form familiarity seeps in

He has been here in this plastic prison cell floating down the street towards purgatory

The stale air of the jail station holding cell masked only by the putrid out of service toilet

A reputation turned proclamation his life is an endless staircase twirling and winding in chaos

Ever moving towards collision like a runaway train bound for a glorious reunion with itself

Insanity became a daily routine and complacency set in as his choices become a hat draw

Hating the world for everything that he had to endure ignoring the pattern in front of him