Billie on the Bridge

Billie won't sit here very long
She's just waiting for someone to come by
And ask why she's here
And ask how she got here
And ask her out, maybe

She's just sitting on the bridge
Watching the cars
Dangling her legs
Over the edge

She's never been afraid of heights
She's not afraid of water
She's not afraid to fall
She's done it enough times before

She tossed out a nickel
To see how far it would go
To see if she could trace its path
But it disappeared into the night
Right in front of her face

She wondered if that's what she would do
If she would disappear too...

She's not sad
She's really not
She's just here
Wondering where else she should be

And if she's here
Maybe here's where she needs to be

It's a nice kind of Tuesday
It's a Tuesday that wants to be a Friday

'Maybe when you grow up'

The air's turned cold
But Billie still lets the coat
Slip off her shoulders
Revealing the soft skin
Right beneath her shoulders

She lets the air crawl up her dress
And smooth out over her legs
Until she feels like she is the cold
Rather than just being cold

Her toe makes a path
A circle, a loop
Her name in cursive writing
With a dot on the last 'i'

She spreads her hands out by her side
And coughs once, twice
Trying to summon up a voice

She won't sit here very long
Just a few moments more