Who's that across the crowded room?
Sullenly silent, drink in hand
all jagged edges, slicing words.
I feel I know her, what's her name?
I feel her pulse, her raging heart,
her sightless wander through our lives,
her fitful struggle to transcend
the cold worn grooves of hollow steps.
She slithers wraithlike out the door
as laughter falters, with a sigh.
That sharp and scary, scowling girl
I think just might have once been me.
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