She's barely a girl,
just a pretty thing with big blue eyes
and an innocent smile.
She scrawls messages on post-its,
and sticks them quietly between the
pages of library books.
She's hoping someone will open to
page 222 and somehow
know it was her.
She has dreams her small frame
can't possibly contain.
She dreads staying the same forever,
trapped in a small town with a
picture-perfect childhood.
She knows that real artists are starving,
starving for salvation and a reason
to be freed.
She's starving to stay young in different places
with different people.
different boys whose arms will be
her home until their kisses
become a reason for her to leave,
whose names are easily forgotten.
Their intentions were lost
and only mean something
on the pieces of paper she hides.
She'll take her library books and post-its
and conveniently leave them in
train stations and bus depots,
hoping someone will come take her away.
Away from the dreary skies and
the suffocating sweetness of a small town,
where her five-foot frame
feels so out of place.
The fines will stack up,
and she'll use her allowance
to buy the books,
waiting until someone brings them
back with her messages in their hands.
They're her only hope.
No one listens to what she says,
her screams are silent to those around her.
She wants to escape.
And she knows,
that to take her away,
it means someone will
have to truly care about her.
And that's all she's ever wanted.
