She.
She is
all the exit signs that lead to North Carolina.
chasing stardust trails with her fingertips.
She is
sitting in a black leather chair watching a boy she loves get his hair shaved off.
she does the same to hers, almost.
She is
sleeping til 4 pm.
drunken sadness at 3 am.
She is
a compilation of every little hug, smile, hand squeeze, tear
of every person she has ever known.
She is
wearing the same black dress for two days in a row
because it made her feel like a ballerina and she always wanted that as a little girl.
She is
black and blue ink mixing against pale paper
her skin.
She is
the empty spaces between "i love you"s
never actually receiving one herself.
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