My feet are still stained black

As we ran through the night
The grass wrapped itself around our feet begging us to linger a little longer
Devils danced behind us
Licking our heels as we laughed because even the most vile creatures seem enticing at times

When you're five minutes late for curfew you might as well stay three hours more
Every passing minute building up a stronger reprimand
But the memories towered higher
In the form of teenage hands climbing onto middle school rooftops
The tar up top coloured our skin black
Darker than than the thoughts I had the night before
Darker than the closet I lock myself in
I watched the figures spin on the ceiling from my baby brothers lamp
Doomed to rotate in a predetermined route
I learned then how to walk with my feet pigeon toed so I could avoid a circular path

Fighting my aching knees from the awkward bend
I looked up and saw you
Knees bent inward
Wincing
But happy to be on a linear path

The tattoos on your arm still trickling blood
They were a statement though
And expensive
Your friends admired the candle design on your shoulder
Sadly the dim light burner brighter than their smiles
Brighter than your red swollen eyes after your dad told you how to be a better daughter
He calls it looking out for you
He calls it constructive
I call it a drunken state of discontent from a wasted life
I call it a six pack on his breath

So when you look at your tattoos and remember a few years before
When you want to relive the childhood adventures
I'll be waiting on the top of our middle school with a pair of warm clothes and a magic eraser to clean you up