sunday poetry

(yeahyeah…it’s no longer Sunday, I know)

I’m the one you won’t remember
When you try and think back
To the time we met through some common acquaintance

I’m the one who glances awkwardly around
Twiddling her thumbs
When caught in a crowd

I’m the one who won’t try to impress you
With my ability to make small talk
Cause I ain’t good at it and I don’t like to try

I’m the girl who vanishes before you even realize she was there…
And that’s perfectly fine with me