There is a girl in the window.

I'm not sure if we've met.

She hates me.

I hate her.

She follows me everywhere, like she has nothing better to do.

Tormenting me as she runs, with me, from

Window to Window

Puddle to Puddle

Mirror to Mirror

She seems so sad,

so lonely,

so insecure.

I wish I could help her.
I wish I could help her.