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…