everytime i hear footsteps
i think it is
but i look up and of course i am wrong
he does not belong
to me [anymore]
so why am i waiting for him to come back to me.
there is too much grey in tiled hearts i am
i am a female anomaly and he is [already] gone let’s just
make that fact, please
i will take my place in the hallway and the anti-chamber.
i will watch you in the center of the crowd
and count your footsteps as pocket change or social security:
pretty and intellectual but emotionally stupid.
like i said: i