my blonde haired friend sits with her boyfriend
on the burgundy brick wall
people laugh and share stories of their milk and honey days
they all seem full
completed as one
except for that one girl
her voice is always shaky
her hair is more frizz than it is curl
she's a disaster in the making
maybe that's why she sits alone
there is three benches on the left
and there is three on the right
she sits at the one furthest away from the crowd
those kids are so unlike me
they make me feel unwell
she sits alone with her book bag beside her
it is her only friend
I take that back,
she has a knack
for deterring those around her
she puts her music in her ears
your cliche teenage girl
who sits alone
not on her phone
but admiring the melody
the cars around her move so fast
much like her mind
but what's it matter?
she is just a disaster
who no one wants to sit with
she sees her brown hair friend
standing by herself
she glances over to see the girl
with more frizz than there is curl
she looks away
pretending she's not there
on the bench all by herself
who just wants someone to sit with
her hand may shake
her lungs may quake
but she is nonetheless human
it's been years
she still sits alone
the people think she's weird
and she knows she is
she doesn't embrace it
but she lets their words sink in
so she lets the words come in blades
and they sink a little deeper
the color inside
cannot hide
as she lays on the bathroom floor
the next day she finds herself
sitting on the bench
earbuds in
mind out
and skin wrapped up in a bandage
at one point she would be ashamed to show that they got to her
but today is the day
where she sends herself away
to her own land of milk and honey
her land is different, though
than the other kids' land
hers is filled with demons and words
and that same old wretched bench
she writes a letter
on her notebook paper
for those who choose to read it
it simply says
I am the girl who always sits alone
you can find me on the bench
I hope your thirst is quenched
because all of your words finally broke me
it's many years later
the letter still rests here
while the girl has gone away
her mind had sunk
although she was tough
her love wasn't enough
for all of those around her
they thought her kindness was weird
her eyes showed too much
her clothing hid more than enough
she bundled up
in all of her sorrow
and still went out of her way
to find that kid on the bench
who felt the very same way . . .
