My Crying Girl

Suits, bare feet, school uniforms
People rush in many ways past me,
brushing against my shoulder the crowd moves past,
I stand perfectly still,
Waiting in the smoldering heat,
watching…

I join the line, conforming to all the others
Step by step I move forward…
Beads of sweat run down my forehead
Moving forward,
forward…
I can’t see her today

Fingerprints on the windows
The sunlight reflects on my face,
I watch my reflection and pick at an imperfection
she is sitting behind me
I didn’t even see her-
my crying girl

Black and blue, both her clothes,
and her mood.
I watch her and she watches the floor
I swear, someone would shoot a gun,
and she just would not look up.

I hear the radio,
I don’t listen-
just like people hear her crying
They hear her crying-
they don’t listen.

Those gentle sobs echo so loudly in my ears;
a single scream in a long empty hallway,
white floors and neon lights
I long to hold her,
I could never approach her.

I got on the bus today
and-
they didn’t even notice.
my crying girl.. nowhere to be seen

I wonder if she had ever really seen me,
in my private school uniform and-
bleach-blonde hair.
She was decorated beautifully-
tattoos and blackened eyes
as dark as the deepest ocean in the midst of a storm.

I understood her…
she never had the chance to understand me.
My crying girl
If I’d just had one more chance to learn-
what it was she was crying about.