Heart beats and wounds

"Hi."

There's silence. No reply.

He's looking at me. His ocean blue eyes, distracted and confused. He seems broken. He's forlorn. His dirty blond hair's messy and matted to his forehead. Rain. Pouring down on us- lost souls- endlessly. He's a stranger. But he's like me. He's someone I just only met. A guy seated on a bench late at night. In the quiet streets. Alone. Left on his own to sort out treacherous feelings. Terrible ones. He's caught up with a massive and harsh war in his mind. He's stuck. Trapped. Suffocated. But, again, he's just like me.

He laughs. Sarcasm. Deep rich emotions full of filth all gushing out. Everything's a mess, an awful mess. Whoever will be kind enough? To clean the pathetic mess. Not even the ones whom we loved. They wouldn't bother.

Peculiar, particularly weird understandings we lost souls share.

I nod.

He nods.

"Life's such a pain," he says.

Ruthless rain blurring my vision of him, I look away. "Heart beats and wounds."

"All the time."