she’s the one
who sits in the corner
at the big party,
phone in hand
anxious
tapping her fingers after
sending one message
and awaiting the
next,
she doesn’t look around
just down
at the carpet
till she is shocked by
the buzz of her cell
phone,
then she reads furiously,
types madly,
doesn’t even notice
you quietly observing her
from across the
room

she is the girl
who is so obsessed
with one specific person’s love
that she refuses
love from anywhere
else

she cuts her hair short,
studs herself with odd
earring, and says “I love
you” but never to anyone
she means it to

she does not eat
in an attempt to
punish her soul

she does not really know
what you say to her
only that
you make noise
and distract
her
from her next
text

she will destroy you
if you interrupt her

she is in control
but makes no
decisions

she sits,
in the corner,
hoping the next
check of her phone
contains all the
things she’s
been hoping
for

she is there,
alone,
slowly becoming part
of the
furniture