Hunger: a confession

We were looking for stolen cocaine
at the time
I was living out of my car
three months
eating once a day
I needed a job
we went to the dilapidated house
waving unloaded guns
the acquaintance who would soon be my friend
used his fists like hammers
the guy and his girl
kept pleading
kept denying
until something snapped
as the middle-class kid
in the hoodie and bling
pretending to be gangster
clean, well fed and smooth
bellowed and shrieked
tears streaming down his face
a swift kick from steel toes behind his knee
buckled and broken
I sat next to him
a sinister Buddha
removing my mask
he started talking
knowing what it meant
I ate well, that day