anxiety consuming,
sleep deprivation sinking in
more coffee than I care to admit.

attractive men
passing
without a passing glance

still flustered from security
bobby pins alarming.
terrorism, undoubtedly.

still people watching.
hoping some man
might look my way.

remember I look 12,
not 21.
maybe I am just ugly.

doesn't help that I am
holding onto Oliver,
my stuffed turtle,

as if he is
the life
hiding in my soul.

coffee, coming back to me.
every emotion intensified.
bladder swollen, nervous.

only 9 hours,
to home.
if ever there was.