boy with a coin

boy with a coin, you found me in the weeds, playing with matches and dirty magazines. the wind in my hair, the smell of my curls, the hope on my fingertips molding the world.
you turned to me gently and showed me your coin, blind to it then, but you'd done this before. polluted the soil and tore up my earth, speaking of promises and words that would hurt.
you promised me silence for innocence in return, stuck your hand in my mud with no other word. it happened so quickly, ran out of my soul, as free and as fast as the body you stole.
left nothing to trace this pain that you gave, nothing except the coin that remained. i was too young to understand the rules of this game, to young to have known what you stole on that day.
from moment to moment a life fades from color to black, taking all that is good with it, never to come back. for a long time after i carried your coin on my heart, in search of a man whose game he would start,
by showing a girl something pretty in return for her light,
taking more than her beauty, taking all her delight.