Faces.

Faces.

Washing down tables in the back corner booth,
She looks down to her feet, afraid to know the truth;
And with a smile, she chokes back her fighting tears -
Wondering where she went wrong along the years.

Faces blur in and out, but she keeps her head up,
As she sits in the corner booth with just her coffee cup;
Her shifts would end and she had nowhere to go,
People would always turn to talk, but they would never know.

Frost covers the window as the busy city faces blur past,
And she'd trace her fingers around that wedding cast -
Asking herself where her life had slipped away to,
And how she could feel that she owes it all to you.

As she leans back against the bathroom wall with tears in her eyes,
She holds the pregnancy test and crumbles from all your lies.
The baby pink that she never wanted to see again,
Was in her hands as faces faded in and out of her head.

© Jenna Elphick
November 29, 2006