9 She

she watches the world with two dull eyes; one remains bigger than the other. she listens to the whispers, and emotions, of the owners' of shadows with small, frightened ears. she speaks of the truth and the lies with a mouth too small yet big enough to hold all of her lies. she wears a flask that fits her face perfectly; pull at her skin and you will see it clearly. she can smile, and get sad. but most of all, she is tired. growing tired. she is unmotivated. growing unmotivated. as she sleeps on the floor only to get trampled on. as she lays her heavy head on a table too tall. as she writes letters too big with a pencil too blunt. as she shouts with a voice she, herself, cannot hear, control. as she stands too far away from herself, grasping onto sand; it slips past the cracks between her fingers like the time she struggles to live in. time waits for no one.