Thisgirl gazes at cumbersome stars
and dissipates into them, wondering why
weare alone
and loathed
in funeral clothes
My God, she cries, abrasivequestions
are coming in from all directions
but left rhetorical andunrequited
save for "Can I hurt you?"
with, "I'd bedelighted."
Always the calm one, she still believes
that kindness andcompassion
can shine through clothes and foundation
though across thestreet she sees
in a dingy house with mildew siding
he has proven hispreference while
still wearing her silver crucifix
How sad it all is, shethinks,
but it is still nice to gaze at cumbersome stars
and dissipateinto them, wondering why
we are alone
and loathed
in funeral clothes
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

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