Something weird happened to me today.

She was like a sliver under my skin, her words sharp and uninvited.

She was like a broken railing I bumped in a place I didn’t belong.

 She spewed words like arrows and I was the mark.

Someone weird happened to me.

“Don’t make excuses.”

Witch words from a stranger with a spell.

“Who the hell are you?”

Words from a sorcerer with blue eyes and a pocketful of daggers — word weapons that left their wound.

And maybe that’s what she wanted.

She leaves but the words don’t, so I pick them apart like a scab.

“Don’t make excuses”

“Don’t make excuses.”

“Don’t make excuses.”

Maybe she knows more than I do, or maybe she’s just a stoned student with a better perspective.

 Either way, her eyes are razorblades and I avoid her weaponry.

With switchblades instead of stilettos, she disappears through the glass and leaves me with splinters of unease.

Today I took the wrong bus.

But I didn’t make excuses.

Today something weird happened to me.

Someone weird happened to me.