Scarred Poem by Rain Gill

exposed brick
jagged and beautiful
I drag my fingertips
along the length
of the wall
relishing in
the rough texture
against my smooth porcelain skin
bruised
three
empty black cups
sit in disarray
on the unfinished
wood tabletop
remnants of
an afternoon spent
killing time
three mismatched chairs
gather around
the table
opposite the old
pine church pew
the light grows dim
as the sun
begins to lower
shadows grow
stronger in the
fake fluorescent lights
dancing elusively
on the same
brick wall
that is now
forever scarred
with my blood