Friday, May 3, 2013

That Girl in the Desk Next to Me

That Girl in the Desk Next to Me

She doesn't notice me.
I know that she doesn't notice me.
She just sits there, checking her phone
and twirling her hair.

With disdainful indifference
and not a care to spare,
she shuffles nonchalantly;
shifting in her chair.

Please don't think me odd,
Or even creepily fond.
Mostly I'm like a sad, pathetic fish
cowering in her pond.

I don't think of her in lust,
God knows I wouldn't dare.
But God damn the way she sits,
twirling her hair.

Then I start to worry 
that the worst will reach fruition.
What if she catches a glance?
Snags my lacking inhibitions?

But I know in my head that she'll never catch me,
she'll never interrupt my stare.
She'll just sit there indifferently,
twirling her fucking hair.

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