I walked in and saw a pair of shoes.
I thought nothing of it,
and went away.
Later, again,
the same pair of shoes.
Those shoes sat down-
blank pants-
I linger long and heard her breath,
building up the courage to ask if she's okay,
"Yeah" a quiet voice cracks.
she's not okay
she's hurting, sick maybe,
but she seems so sad.
She doesn't need me to get anyone
and when it comes to wishing her well
"yeah" is all that I hear.
"Yeah" filled with a quiet torment.

I only saw her black shoes
and skinny black pants.
curled up in the largest stall,
to think I had gone in
feeling sorry for myself
feeling miserable
there to check the mirror
to see if I still look as
disgusting as I think I do,
and there she is,
black shoes
black pants
curled where nobody would notice.
I know that voice
I know that breath,
the tears, by now,
would be stale on her face.
I went away
but still her sad black shoes
patted sad footprints on my heart.