shins raze she used to kick me. right there. she didn't know me. she just liked to hurt me. always looking for something brittle she could break. she was dark grey windbreakers and black headbands. she was feral brown eyes. she was other things i didn't get to see. all i saw was what i felt. kick. kick. kick. i saw her in the hall at lunch recess once. she was crying and limping. she kicked something she couldn't win a fight with and hurt her foot. she never kicked me again. and the part of me that didn't want to kick her back missed the sting of her tennis shoes giving me bruises the colour of a dead sky. if i find the right place, if i press hard enough against it, i can almost see her smiling. 210821 what's it to you? who go blather from