The Girl With No Name

There was this girl last year, she always dressed in black and had the deepest eyes. She seemed to have no friends, she was always walking alone. But she had this amazing sense of...self, I guess. She knew who she was and she didn't care what anyone thought of her. I always wanted to talk to her and then one day she was gone. And so was my chance to ever get to know who she really was.

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Once there was a girl who kind of liked someone. And he liked her back. Then they got scared. Fear changes everything.

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When everything ended there was a girl left alone, picking up the pieces. In the picture, you can’t see her face because she's got her head down. There is a storm brewing somewhere in the distance, but in the horizon the sun is still shining.

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There was a girl who was anchored to something once, but she never wanted to be anchored to someone. Maybe that made her driftwood but maybe it made her, her own person.

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Today she saw all these business men crossing the street at lunch. They all had the same suits on and the same faces on. She just kept thinking about what they were like when they were younger. Were their faces always this serious?

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She's different. Late at night, when the phone has stopped ringing, the cars have stopped driving by outside, that's when she feels best. It's when she feels most like herself inside her head.

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There was once a girl who wondered why thinking you've lost someone makes you realize you love them. Decisions made for the wrong reasons don't last. One can't let impulse, jealousy, override reason.
But then again, what does reason have to do with love?



(This is incomplete, because her story is. Sorry.)