As I walked in to the swap shop with my box of junk,
she glanced sidelong at my treasures.
My hello was met with silence.
I hadn't shaved for two days
and apparently neither had she.
Looking beat down, dressed poorly,
with mistrust in her eyes, we both knew our
lives were different.
She was sifting through boxes and piles carefully,
maybe for something she needed as opposed
to something she wanted.
I do it the other way around.
She would spit on me if I complained about my life,
as I do constantly.
Her contempt would be deserved.
My ingratitude was revealed in a penetrating sidelong glance.
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