another bunch of words

it feels like i've been standing here forever.
and it feels like that every time.
it's cold and it's dark and my feet hurt
and i am counting every second that i feel this way.
they must see me
standing, waiting.
they must laugh at the
foolish girl
who still has hope in her eyes
while she has soaking wet freezing socks in her old shitty boots.
it doesn't even seem to matter anymore
what i'm waiting for.
i could be waiting for a change in season.
i could be waiting for a season
that defines itself in tangible qualities
instead of in what it lacks.
there is nothing fresh.
no fresh snow.
no fresh grass.
there is just nothing.
there is just me.
i am alone.
i could be waiting for someone.
maybe, with me standing here foolishly,
endlessly,
someone would know where to find me
if someone was to look.
after all, i was told from a young age
to stand in one place when i got lost
so that someone would find me.
and i am lost.
but the longer i stand in this spot,
the more it becomes clear to me
that this is not a place where people are found.
this is just a place where a foolish girl stands and waits
cold and alone.