Sometimes

I see her sometimes.
There is a way she walks and you know.
Behind that laugh and behind that smile,
is a deep dark place, where she often goes.

I talk to her sometimes.
Her words are full of cheer and you know.
Behind her hellos and chipper exterior
she is broken, and bent and bowed.

I watch her sometimes.
Her face lost in concentration and you know.
The thoughts that play within her head
are filled with fear and woe.

I bump into her sometimes.
She seems startled and jittery and you know.
It’s not the impact of us colliding that made her jump
it’s the bruises that she wears that she never shows.

I hear her on her phone sometimes.
There is a hushed urgency in her voice and you know.
She is speaking to the one who caused all her pain
and she is trying not to let anyone know.

I see her cry sometimes.
She laughs against the pain and you know.
She explains it away with jokes and excuses
tomorrow will be better, you know?

I see her shake sometimes.
She says it’s from not having coffee and you know.
There is only a thin veil of what she used to be
and she is scared, frightened and feels alone.

I saw them both today.
She turned in her resignation and was going to go.
She stopped by my desk, and gave me note,
Please help me, I know you know.