She walks moves shifts shuffles with her head down. Gives a half hearted smile to whoever looks. or sees. Her face is cold hard um, possibly sad or twisted yet convincing, with the eyeliner and bright jewlry. When friends notice she just sighs, smirks breathes laughs more like chuckles kind of. and shrugs. they've never noticed before. they're to late. So she tells people what will happen. They just laugh. Because going to ending up leaving for Canada dosn't make any sense. Because the way she's carved and sewn and mended her path is poor and still broken. She worries fears imagines, wait. no. she hopes? she dreams. she thinks she knows. is sure. that it will never mend. She is pushed or pulled? was it tugged, or shoved? No, perswaded, Mmmm it was swept, no, who knows. but it was away. just away. and it seemed like she never returned. Canada must be a pretty nice place.
January 1, 2011