She hides behind a mask looking with her eyes the people that don't see her, the ones who forced her to hide. The mask is metaphorical she's really out in the open. But still no one sees her still no one notices.
One friend is all she needs. One in each class, one to laugh with, one to grasp. But she's alone in most and wishes she could be like them. The social butterflies with their clique's so that she wouldn't have to be alone again.
Another year spent watching, another year with no words. Every once in a while she may smile but more often she looks curse, a frown upon her face, stiffness in her walk. She hates that she's invisible, that nobody wants to talk.
Over her head they look, right through her their eyes pierce a hole. She is no one to them, she is nothing to him, she is no one to herself at all. So alone she sits, an everyday routine wishing she could be like them, wishing she wasn't me.
