OLD SCARS

BY J. HUNTER

I wait with absent thoughts
of what’s to come,
under a sheet of dinosaur cloth
all alone.

Waiting to hear the steel toe
boots climb the stairs,
pushing away the fear
deep within that I feel.

Knowing what a late night can
bring about,
hairs raise on my neck as I
fight the urge to shout out.

Headlights set the windows
aglow,
Only a matter of minutes is
what I’ve left to go. | JH

J. HUNTER WAS BORN IN GLENDALE, CALIFORNIA. HE DESCRIBES HIS FAMILY HAVING NO ROOTS AND THAT MONEY WAS BOSS — LOVE ALWAYS BEING BOUGHT AND SOLD FOR AN UPGRADE. HE KNEW THAT HE WAS MENTALLY DIFFERENT, SO HE LEFT EARLY TO FIND OUT. HUNTER RECENTLY RELEASED AND WRITES NOW AS A RETURNING CITIZEN.