Cigarette left on the floor by a high school student
Hand picks it up and feels something
She's simple and old
It won't go anywhere
The train glides, she pretends with her eyes closed
It's easier this way
She rains every morning
Without a coat
She smiles every morning,
without a mouth
Its cracked and disappearing
She won't go anywhere
Skirts feel longer now
and stares are for forever
This is not suffocation
This is not childish
This is just old
Why is it not moving?
It feels better than she thought it would
As though no different is encased within something different
She recognises teeth
And hair strands
But lines and creases are unfamiliar
She's not going anywhere
