Poem: Truant

A poem about not being (all) there.

I used to wonder where you went —
your eyes rolled back in your skull,
pint in hand, glazed look caked hard.
I also wondered why you were disappearing.

What had happened that had hit so
hard, was there a single reason?
You would pull back on a cig or
a joint like it owed you a pathway.

But no one could ever crack through
that smirk, or see behind those eyes.
You were never going to let anyone in.
Did you ever let anyone in?