When they asked how she was,

She said she was fine,

Because she thought someone would know

That she lied.

But nobody cares

To listen past those words.

Nobody cares,

To listen to the unheard.

So their worlds go on spinning,

While hers is in slow motion,

They see in full color,

To her, that’s an unheard-of motion.

They have someone to turn to,

Someone that will always support them.

While when she turns around,

There’s only thin air. 

And she watches from afar,

As they giggle and chatter.

And wonder how nice it must be,

To know that you matter. 

And know you’re the main character,

Not the comic relief,

Not the cool best friend,

To their river just one bend. 

And not have to think,

“Am I even that?”

Or “Do I just cross once,

In street clothes and a fluffy hat?”

She doesn’t even get her own costume,

Not even a single line,

Because let’s face it. 

This play isn’t hers.