i’m in a room right now
and all my stuff is on the floor-
pens, books, post-its galore-
in attempts of me trying to find something to do
it’s not like my friends would try and call
why would they? they don’t want to be with
someone so sad; someone who gazes outside the window
and wishes she could be like the people walking by
for instance, the young couple
the boy and girl interlocking lips on the side walk
saying they don’t need anyone but each other
or the confident woman
the one that talks on the phone with an important tone
like everything we’ve ever known will fall apart without her
or the two best friends
that laugh harder than a drunkard at a comedy show
and cry on each other’s shoulders
how i wish to actually be wanted
like the people outside the window