"Days like this, I don't know what to do with myself. All day, and all night I wander the halls, along the walls, and under my breath I say to myself I need fuel to take flight . . . and there's too much going on . . ."

It's a disconnection, a displacement, a disenchantment . . . a descent.

She's predisposed to falling, to walling, to calling it quits.

Call the bluff; tough when even she believes it. "I'm okay . . ."

All she wants is clarity, some sincerity and a reason not to hide - a reason to let it all slide. S l i d e.

All I want is sleep.

"Is that why they call me a sullen girl?

02/25/2004

Author's Note: Inspired primarily by the song "Sullen Girl" by Fiona Apple and my now-familiar jumble of emotions. I included the lyrics around the poem in quotations because without the backing, without what made me feel, it just seemed to be lacking. Spur of the moment, this one. Still working.

Posted on 02/26/2004
Copyright © 2025 Megan Harvey