She doesn’t cry because she doesn’t like wasting time
on pointless pleas for sentiments never shared
sympathies stolen
and things never given.
She remembers bits of words and lots of letters
the soft and wrinkled edges of notebook paper
Gentle curves between the lines
anxious turning…
Check the time.
When she writes, her eyes go blind and somehow
she feels lost.
In a place that is entirely her own
to share and to hide
I don’t think she minds.
But when she stops and breathes out slowly
Bites her lips and turns the pencil she’s holding
with nails that gnaw into skin
I am terrified.
She promises not to cry but
Nobody’s listening
Everything wants a say
and all their little voices and little faces
Make her so afraid.
The waves that build inside her eyes
make me think she isn’t blind.
Instead she must want to be
away
lost at sea.
S. F. Austin High School
10