draft one

bright red bled from a vanilla skinned cap, that made a dark stain on your nap sack,
you shouldn't carry things around like that, shifting and checking the ground to see how the drip has been chasing you,
the red trail made a tale of the day you lead accompanied by the butts of cigarettes,
they will blow away with the urban parade, stepping lightly, stomping defiantly, drudging through,
the trail gathered in puddles at the gate, of an ex that you love to hate,
and though you seeth with hatred you still stand in that place
at angle beneath his window to gaze,
the empty window framed the empty space with drapes,
though it was obvious nothing happened it was enough to fulfill some state
of mind piece of mind, filling your time up with nonsense to pay your bills,
catching up catching up to the real way you get your thrills,
some blocks away riverside the trail trickled and stopped,
this

the trail cut off for a block at one time and in the space of those tracks you could see the garbage dragging off to the curb in a trail of slime,
then the dots became apparent just in time to gain my attention