The Girl In The Window

I see her when I wake

I see her when I go to sleep

She’s like a statue

Always on the edge, like a statue

There is no telling

What she thinks or what she does

But I never see her leave or live

She is almost lifeless, doll-like

And I’m fascinated,

I shouldn’t be but I creep

I watch her, trying to guess

What or who she is

The girl in the window doesn’t move

Doesn’t turn her head or do anything

She is there and she stays

Until that day …

One day I saw her move

Finally! I watched, intrigued.

Her shoulders were shaking

Wait, was she sobbing?

So I looked even closer

That’s when I saw the tears

And when she turned her head towards me

I saw her eyes were red

That’s when I realised,

What had changed that day

She had not only moved

She also had changed color

Blood everywhere

On her face, her hands, her clothes

How had I not see it before

And where did it come from?

That was the last time I saw her

The only time she moved

The one time she looked at me

And every time I think about it

Every time I remember her

A shiver runs down my spine

At the thought of who she was

Or what she might have done that day…

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