I look over at you,
and see that in my lateness,
my forced spot has been taken.
Do you realize that I'm not there?
Though I want to be?
Do you realize that I care?
Though I don't want to?
So like a good girl,
whose feelings aren't hurt,
whose not sad,
who wonders why its like this,
I walk away,
with strength that I didn't believe I had.
I stand with others now,
A spot has been carved for me,
kind of.
It's a good enough spot,
in theory,
but its not my spot,
and I know,
I'm not welcome here.
I look on,
listen to the conversation,
its tense,
I know its because of me,
and that I'm not welcome here either.
When will I be welcome?
Will I ever be welcome?
Will I always feel like an intrusion?
I shake my head,
and like a good girl,
with strength I never knew,
I had,
I walk away again.
And so, as my life,
ever flows into the river of eternity,
I go with it,
hoping for the best,
expecting the worst,
and the river flows on.