The Shadow Effect

five

five

She pinpointed him first before

anybody else,

leaning against the office door

across from her hall

in nothing but the simplicty

of a leather jacket and jeans.

But it was the way he smiled,

flashing his pearly-whites from rosy red lips

and menacing sea-green eyes that she

felt she was drowning in

just by staring at.

He didn't notice her,

and she was glad.

Nobody ever recognized her before,

even if she shared a year

but it defeated the main reason she

glanced away.

She was a nobody

and he was a

somebody.

It was unbearable,

referring herself as if she was nothing,

made from a wisp of smoke

and suppressed flower petals

made to remember.

She could hardly remember herself,

being told incessantly

that she was nothing but anything,

rarely acknowledged.

If only somebody could remember. . . .her