we are surrounded by anonymity

(posted over here yesterday...
apparently i started it 6 months ago to the day. just found it & added on...not really a poem, but...something to consider.)

woman on the train today
brown skin
matted hair in back
some braids in front
one or two locs sticking out
black tam
bracelet on wrist w/ barcode
pink plastic bracelets…for decoration
folded in on herself
bag under her elbow

where’s she going?
where’d she come from?

i’ve seen her again since
…feel compelled to write her story
but where would i begin?

does it begin as a baby
not loved/wanted on some level

it could have been a grown-up heartbreak
rather than misplaced younggirl dreams
stepped on by well-intentioned shoes

could have been anything.

she could be anyone.

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