On the Mend

A random guy gets out of the truck

and starts to walk into the QuikTrip store,

from his walk you could just tell

even without knowing him

that he wasn't a bore.

As he goes to open the door

he catches the eye of a woman

who is at the gas station,

smirking and nodding dramatically -

checking her out and quickly seems

to have a momentary fixation.

He must have felt her stare

and acted in response,

then walked away with an air of nonchalance.

His friend in the driver's seat and the woman

look toward one another and shake their head,

the woman with a smile and hair that is almost cherry red.

"I'm not even pretty, though!" She thinks

even with that soft grin,

glass on her nose and teeth that aren't straight...

without remembering all the time that it is all about within.

She is a typical woman that likes to rock out to Led Zeppelin

and drink moonshine whiskey -

loves her flag, her country, her family

but despises the men that grab at her

when they think she's gotten a little past tipsy.

She wants someone to see that heart on her sleeve

and love her for who she is,

whom thinks she beautiful in sweats

no makeup and hair that is frizzed.

They may be complete strangers

and they may never crossed paths again,

but it invoked that feeling of being desired

from this moment which isn't quite foreign.

It had been awhile since someone

had been playful but not hitting on her at the same time,

there wasn't any leering eyes

which made her feel like she was covered in grime.

She may have spent a long time trying to love,

and seems to go through life with her hand

encased in a boxing glove.

In the moment, she almost feels better

as sad as it would seem,

because lately her days have had a reoccurring theme.

She spent her nights alone

trying to fill the silence of the house,

rock music failing to replace a child or a spouse.

She throws herself in her studies to get that GED,

"I have to get my life back on track

from what was done to me."

Her mother abandoned them three

and to her youngest sister

a mother figure is what she became,

with her own set of problems

that she struggles to declaim.

She fought to stand as tall as she is today,

to keep the flame within her ignited

"If there is a will, damn it - there has to be a way."

This woman doesn't exactly need affection

but it wouldn't hurt all the same,

knowing that it is possible to smile again

even after losing life's chess game.

This woman is on the mend

from left her discarded on the ground,

pulling herself up with strength that would astound.

This stranger came off as playful

and by God that's really what she needs,

to feel not so alone

as she lays in her bed at night

and clutches at those prayer beads.

She has to hope that she won't be alone forever

and there is someone out there that would

one day hug her tightly and say,

"I love you so much, sweetheart... everything will be okay."