Lovely

Drafting in pencil, she called herself February and pretended like the
                       million edged sword
                                                    didn't hurt the way that her poems made it sound.
Altogether, wrapped up without anyone else, she drew pictures of the way that the other half lived on the side of the planet where they walked upside down.

It struck her occasionally that she should probably run. 

People had the tendency to call her the wrong name with indiscretion

and forget when she started speaking

or what her point was at all.

She was number 2

She was option B

She was 18 pounds too far away from a friend who might think of her naked without trying to color her in a language she didn't know. 

She thought of buying a 

                                  name tag

                        and wearing one on every layer so that even when she was undressed

they'd have the decency

                       not                        to                 ask.

She was starting a phase of undeniable regression on the subject of tomorrow's plans. 

Wherever she stood these days, she wished she was standing somewhere else.

They told her carpe diem

but she wasn't really pretty enough to seize anything anymore. 

She'd wait until the rain forest fell silent. 

Maybe she'd be lovely then.