sue is

sue is scribbling notes,

importantly legible,

with passwords and words to pass,

mostly lowercase,

that won’t stand up to time.

sue is opening envelopes,

searching for something with hope

with low expectations.

she throws it all away

because she doesn’t owe anything to anyone

and no one else should have to.

sue is dragging her naked feet

along the hardwood floor

to see how it feels

because she’s never done that before.

it sounds like a muffled screech

only to her.

sue is down

making crooked snow angels,

invisible and broken,

wondering if they could be real

if she wanted them to be.

sue is frozen.

sue had a plan.

sue is idle

"Hungry Ghosts" by Frank Boyce.