A short thing I wrote:
Billy had a black eye.
Billy was not a bully, in fact he had just learned how to stand up in the wind.
His bed was too big, so Billy finally built up the courage to speak.
She was blonde, and green, and blue, and she made Billy feel so brave.
She had an imaginary friend in the skyscrapers and a life neighbor in the basement.
Billy should have bailed, but he was so blinded.
So one sunny day he took what people misshape and sent it her way. She thought it was a funny day.
She still said no, by the way.
Billy broke down and built up again with moving photographs and phoning movie stars.
So one day Billy was going to book a break from the place that was pawning his soul, and he was hit from behind with the bolts of a man fighting for the crown.
Billy thought he was a buddy, but Billy also betrayed him when he took his bride for a ride.
Billy believed he’d never find out, but he forgot there are no secrets when you live on common ground.
So that’s how Billy got a black eye, and now he’s the focus of all whom he walks by.
Billy bought black sunglasses to hide his faults behind, but couldn’t put them on, couldn’t make the effort, couldn’t be arsed.
He strolled on, and looked people in the eyes and saw a man in them.
The black eye made Billy feel like he finally existed.