l i t t l e n o t e s

vacant.

she sits with a coffee in her hand

her finger traces the rim of the cup

her eyes flit between two points in the room, avoiding eye contact

she listens to the words being said, but she can't concentrate

so she'll nod and smile and she'll pretend she's okay

but her sweaty palms and vacant disposition say otherwise

she's burning inside, she's burning alive