The Awkward Girl
2003-10-19 @ 1:47 a.m.
You hide behind your pretty features -your wide-set eyes, your luciously full lips -and you refuse to come out for anyone.
Repeating senseless lyrics to yourself in an attempt to be deep, you sit there and twirl a few strands of hair around your fingers. You make yourself look as awkward as possible; you like to feel stared at.
So what if you can quote Poe? or Plath? This doesn't make you any more interesting than the next over-blown, over-exaulted, over-indulged "emo-kid".
...and I've counted the times you've bitten your lips since I've spoken to you last. I've measured the distance from your eyes to mine. I've listened to your breathing when you stumbled over your words and sentences and paragraphs of speech.
You twirl those strands of hair between your fingers, play with the torn hem of your thread-bare skirt, kick your heels into the ground, and you look pleadingly over your shoulder, hoping to see if someone will come.
I've decoded you.
You don't want isolation, you don't want what you have; what you're stuck with. This is what you've kept from us.
You don't want to walk alone.
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)