Heather

Long hair
Awkward eyes
Hands never bitten
Tears never dry
Her glasses slant slightly
Her brown fur lined hoodie holds
In those big pockets
A library
Her sandals are scuffed
Her slacks don’t fit well
On weekends her time
Is spent new book finding
She is boring
And scornful
But it’s not her fault
She lives in the classrooms
And talks to herself
In hallways she slips bye
No one paying her ‘ttention
She walks fast
Determined
With purpose in mind
And goes nowhere
Just home
To a family that fits her
A little strange
With small windows