In Detail

 

 

Papers

clipped together in some pattern

white.

Spilt coffee, or maybe tea. Leaving dark circles on the pages.

 

Dark circles like the ones beneath her eyes, as she watches out the window.

waiting for someone to come to the door.

maybe the phone by her side to ring.

Just, not satisfied with the silence as she sits, watching out the window.

 

Her breath leaves fog, and in her impatience she draws question marks and stars.

She wants to feel happy again.

She wants to know if she ever was...

 

 

trick her into thinking she's beautiful.

Thats what she wants most.

 

She's writing her memories down on new paper, white

her brain doesn't remember everything, so she's waiting for someone to come to the door

her telephone to ring

so they can remind her why she's still here

why she's writing to remember

 

sinking into the bench beneath the window, asking herself

 

is there anyone out there at all?

 

night to day, day to night.

her life is as bright as a candles smoke after it's been put out