You can't just dine; It's not time.
Sleep, lines the bottoms of her eyes.
The circles form overnight, deprivation, falsification.
So if her common sense neglected?
It's 'cause something bigger's detected.
She doesn't mind being left behind.
She would rather go slowly to watch the sunset, anyways.
No reason to look behind the smokescreen (there are some things that no one needs to find.)
Look on as she survives another attempt, kinetic in her learning. Pleading guilty in a non guilty crime.
Avoiding awkward by jumping the fence to turn and step.
Can't help the second nature, her reflexes from past experience stay quick-just to hate her.
They taught her well, as she sought to dip-set
(back to her speculum of normalcy.)
Walking down the street, curbing the beat.
Lights flicker in and out; shadow-boxing down the alleyways of her life.  
Her eyes may have welled, only to dry; in the heat of the moment, regrettably she could only, sigh.
The one thing her mother taught her is to never believe in surprise. Collectively she will be waiting for the day and time when she gets hit from behind the lines, life flies by and she is not afraid to die.

"And she will bite her bottom lip all she wants."