Most days,
she feels so lost,
that you would think
there was once a time
when she belonged to someone,
that she had accidentally
been misplaced somehow.
But you must first have something--
want something--
before you can lose it.
(And no one has ever wanted her.)
She is a translucent thing,
you see.
She must walk through walls,
for no one--
neither friend nor foe--
seems to notice her
when she enters a room.
(or when she leaves one.)
She’ll slip away
from a crowd so easily,
it was almost as if she was
never even there at all.
It only takes a second–
a breath,
a bat of an eyelash;
by the time you’ve turned around,
she’s gone.
(she's always been good at disappearing,
or maybe you're just bad at paying attention.)
But it’s no matter;
her presence does not faze you,
so what makes her
absence
any different?
No one would care
to love a girl like her,
anyway.
A girl so
o u t
o f
p l a c e.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!
jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple
(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
