Standing on the edge of tomorrow
her mind drifts like the creek she loves
drowning in her despair and sorrow
her darkness pulls her from above.
She meanders all the same highways
She jumps through the loops, as you do
But she never has something real to say
She’s just there, just something like you.
Alone in her urban cage, waiting
dreams of what it’s like to be them
jealous of the fun they are having
she stares out, looking into them.
They look at her as the special one,
they say hello, heads cocked to one side
quiet smiles before they shun
so they can tell each other they tried.
They think, she thinks she’s above them all,
that she’s a snob, rude or uptight.
They think, she thinks she can stand up tall,
but she can’t, there’s no life, there’s no fight.
She’s anchored by the rain of sadness
she see’s herself in The Hollow
and they see her as a human mess
a being not worthy to follow.
So she’ll stand alone in tomorrow
deflecting all humanity
they’ll call her a narcissistic pro
an order for one of vanity.
But, the truth appears in flecks of waves
each tide reveals a mystery
truth, no one knows how to play this game
although it comes to some more easily.
They say Narkissos fell to hubris
that he set himself apart from them
perhaps beauty was his lonliness
and it was not for them to condemn.