what’s in the box?
black shirt, black socks,
the cold makes you cross,
black shirt, black socks.
but you run across the road,
like you’ve got somewhere to go.
perhaps on a tangent,
an adventure,
or perhaps just back home.
it was too late
and dark outside
it didn’t hurt that bad
she never cried,
only pride.
but between you and i
and that black eye
a dangerous monster.
a bogey man.
a man who said ‘i love you.’
you never think things through.
you’re already black and blue.
