The Writing

A girl, daddy's little girl engaged in her own dreams, her own problems, her own issues. and vaguely searching the crowd for someone to understand. For someone to hear her as she cried day by day, tear by tear. She cared for no one, for no one cared for her. no one believed in her. tear. lost desire. eyes, search the room. and no one seemed to gaze back. drop. her feelings had vanished replaced with emptiness. and yearning. no longer for her parents to see her, no longer for herself, no longer to be heard. yearning for each day to pass so she could see the night.
So she could gaze upon the moon knowing it was the same moon someone else gazed on. dry tears ripple into the pool of her mind as she lay, eyes locked with the moon. mind lost, heart locked.
Passes through the hallway and looks at a boy who looks at his toes. she imagines the things she would say to him if he spoke. imagines who he might be. love is foreign to her, but he makes it seem so natural. she passes. unsatisfied.
and the yearn came back for someone to love her. hold her. care.
and again tears shine in the moonlight waiting to drop
her eyes sparkle, wet as she sits on a swing. moonlight shining, darkness enveloping the sky. and there sat the boy. on the swing next to her. smiling.

A tear, a drop ran down his cheek and landed on her hair. Her forehead held closely to his lips as he kissed her.