She’s crouched in the corner as the water
hits her back, singing Dave Matthews songs soft
and lying about life. She’s a bother,
But she isn’t today. She let’s out *Cough*
Her friends come home and wonder where she
is hiding, crying, willfull despising.
She’s everywhere she doesn’t want to be
And the roles themselves can’t stop reprising.
“Maybe Monday will be better”, whispers
come from the halls. Her head buries deeper
Into a pillow that was never hers.
Tonight there won’t be any sleep for her.
Monday comes and nothing is much different,
She wonders “Is this the way life is spent?”