And the blankets got
A wine stain
It’s older than her
Knowledge of
How to write her thoughts down
On that crumpled paper
And the dirty sheets
Lay on the floor
Just like last night
And the night before
And the cup
Of water on her
Bedside table
Has long evaporated
But still it sits there
And her mattress is bare
And the air
Is cold
And dry
And lonely
Is this
What it’s like
To be
Alone?
She doesn’t like being alone
There’s no comfort
In loneliness
And her face
Wears a smile
When she walks past people
She’ll never know
And she wonders
If maybe some day
It could be a real smile?
If maybe some day
These people
Could be people
She knew
If maybe some day
She wouldn’t be
Alone