The Man I Met Today

The Man I Met Today

He stood like a question I couldn’t ask,

Hands in his coat, face half in the past.

His eyes were storms that never broke,

And every word he didn’t say spoke.

He smiled once—no joy, just teeth,

Like a wolf who’d come down from the hills.

I didn’t run. I didn’t speak.

But something inside of me went weak.

He told me things I shouldn’t know,

Names of places I’d never go.

A laugh too dry, a voice too slow—

Like he’d come back from long ago.

He called me by my father’s name.

He knew my secret, knew my shame.

The street was full, but we were alone,

My shadow swallowed by his tone.

And then he said, “It’s not yet time,”

And walked away like smoke in grime.

I stood there cold, and didn’t cry—

Just watched the world walk safely by.

The light turned green, the world moved on,

But something in my gut felt gone.

His words still echoed, dry and thin—

A threat beneath my weathered skin.

If he returns, I won’t resist.

Some names are carved too deep to miss.

The man I met did not just pass.

He marked me, like a shattered glass.