I feel a little hollow sitting here by my open window,
The sun has set and the lights are on
Cold air seeps between the gap the window leaves.
I am alone again, in my room.
Am I hollow or am I made of glass, to be so see through?
Can you not see me because my mouth is closed?
If I open it words do not come out,
Only sounds that parody words
They do not speak for me.
If I could only write down everything that is required.
You’d understand my heart and not be so bored and tired.
A grown woman though cannot walk around,
With a whiteboard and some markers
Without drawing a crowd.
So I bring notepads, small ones easily hidden.
I’m just looking for a shopping list that’s never existed.