---

My head kept itself down,
and my lonely heart
liked it.
My brain was used to
this weary feeling,
and my teary eyes
felt comfortable.

Assassinated hours,
murdered art, and
beheaded hardwork
are what I cried for;
I've sent enough melancholy
for them.

Now, my imagination
longs for a company
only with me.

Who else needs me here?
They all got their buddies.
Duh, who knows I'm here?
I'm always one of nobodies.

Powder, lip gloss, combs.
They're the pretty sweet girls
with perfectly pulled off curls.

Sink, mirror, faucet.
There, I learned I should go along
the magical trend,
and I should be able to mix with
the sugary blend.

Pudding, cake, chocolate.
They love the sweet ones,
but they don't even like me.
Probably because
I don't permit it.

Cars, vans, jeepneys.
Travelling a lengthy
and tiresome way,
I share the ride with no one,
AND THAT'S OKAY.

Maybe you don't need
to let me walk with any of you
along the hallway.
Maybe you can always
emphasize on something
I still don't say:
maybe I just did not
want to belong.

---