A Portrait of Time

She wears flowers in her hair.

There's a look of sadness in her eyes, behind the blue, where everything turns to grey.

She pauses, and everyone around her waits, holding their breath.

Her voice washes over you slowly, then returns, echoing more than just her words, but her feelings, her movements, her memories as well.

Yesterday she decided that tomorrow would be better.

There's a song that she sings along to, though she doesn't know the words. And it goes something like this: 'You are my sunshine...'

Every time she closes her eyes she sees it happening again, right in front of her. Sees what? Everything. All things that have been and will be, flicker behind her eyelids. It' why she doesn't often close her eyes.

Sometimes, she feels good enough to cry.

There was something she was going to say, a long time ago. But the moment passed. So she'll wait 'til it comes around again.

When she thinks about it, she wonders if she's just forever running in circles. Then she wonders if that's such a bad thing.

In a perfect world, she'd have lots of friends.

There are events she'd like to forget, but knows she never will. She never can.

I knew a girl once who hated her. Who drew a line in the sand, and stood on the opposite side, staring over at her. Made her an enemy because, after all, waiting really is the hardest part.