everybody thought that she was boring so they never listened anyway
waiting for it to stop
his words decay, spit soft
spray over pavement like ashes
spatter sloppy like clay
spinning and yelling til
in one motion like paper
he folds to ground soft with summer
hands like stray birds cover his face
"im sorry" his lips say
words familiar,
but i wait
after minutes soaked in dark
sobs shake,
trees blow hasty to
save him some embarrassment
his hands fall, eyes bright
face wet, hurls invisible things
through air, yells broken words
watches with wild eyes
words tumble over pavement to shatter
on lonely streetlamps
that blink indifferent
soggy yellow light