Friday, March 27, 2009

The Girl Behind The Counter

There's a girl I'll see tonight; I wish I knew why she captivates me.
She's no model; short and a bit plump, with blemished skin - her shoulders, she says, are horrible.
I don't even know her well; we aren't friends, we just work together.
Her razor wit cuts me, but I feel no pain; I return the favor and she laughs.
She reads while she works; silly stories about people who become animals, and books on clean living.
She's proud of her choice, almost defiant; loyal and strong.

She's my favorite co-worker, and I love her in a way I feel about few others.

The boy with the red ribbons wrapped 'round arms. He inspires me, and I him. He was the first, truly, and I hope he'll be the last.
The girl, so beautiful; there's a part of her that wants me, I think, but she doesn't need me. Sometimes I wish she did.

These are the people that inspire me and give me the hope to carry on. This, I suppose, is why I love them; higher than any other reason, it is the simple joy of knowing them.


  1. I have heard so much about this girl. I'm going to have to come in one day and meet her. Do you remember when I stalked you the first time? :p

  2. Hah, it was cute when you stalked me. You should do it more often.

    And yeah, you should meet her! Want me to ask her if she wants to hang out some time?


Yo! Be honest, folks.