Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

The Watcher

I watch people 

I watch the woman with chestnut hair and brilliant smile that livens up our office.

 I watch her speak. Her keen directness as she explains how to locate a remark code at the bottom of an EOB.

I watch my father, his hands as they move across the page of his sketchbook. In swift, concise motions. 

Drawing faces, people, stories that I never could.

I watch my friend. 

My only friend.

 She doesn't know that though. 

I watch her watching me as she explains how her baby has learned to say "I love you." 

She laughs. 

And her laugh is the best sound, it makes her self conscious. 

But I love it because she is so uncontrollably herself.

 I am jealous of her in every way.

I watch the birds at dawn ,  too fat to fly from their winter stores. 

They are brown cotton balls fluttering at my feet. 

I give them my mini muffin before going inside.

I watch my therapist dissect my thoughts as I speak.

I watch the world moving past me and I suddenly feel lonely.

Like I am wasting time.

 Maybe one day I will do but for now I just wait and watch.