I see them walk past every day,
they look through me anyway,
sometimes the occasional glance,
should I take a chance?
I am always the friend, never the girl,
Someone to depend on but not twirl.
Why do I have no chemistry?
It’s such a mystery.
I craved the loving touch.
Was I asking too much?
Or maybe a love letter,
To set my heart aflutter.
I grew anxious; no one had anything to say.
Waiting for those thrilling moments and sway.
Moons waxed and waned
I’ve no words to explain.
Now I go to work with a louse on the lurk,
Stalk, stare or glare on the streets at work.
I have to take a long ride
with only solitude by my side.
I hear their cheap jokes and silently weep,
sometimes they leer, and sometimes peep.
There were days when the unexpected touch,
I used to get nervous, but now, not so much.
Sitting at a table for four,
my colleagues took a detour.
And the boss dodges any conversation,
Lest I ask for an intervention.
It’s been on for a while now,
I sit behind the pillar or the last row.
Nestled quietly in my cubicle of security,
not arousing any suspicion or curiosity.
As I stare into the small mirror,
just enough to reveal my body error
yet not big enough to show my soul
sum or parts are not the whole.
But I think the smirking salesman was right.
The stitches are tight,
designers don’t design clothes my type,
Why would they, it doesn’t create any hype.
The family sarcasm party at night,
It keeps hurting till daylight.
I am the subject of many puns;
don’t be silly; it’s just for fun.
The workday is over, and I pack up
Lock my emotions and shut up,
Walk back alone with a simple drape
And each day, braving a mental rape.
But I will go back to work tomorrow,
that lone girl in the same waiting train,
I am not giving up today, yet again.