Resting

I understand your dilemma -
to comment or not to comment.

A girl walks by
completely un-phased by your attention,

and you want recognition for your effort,
so you put on your shining armor

and resuscitate chivalry with the one statement
that boils her blood -

"You too pretty to be so mean, sweetheart."

Actually...

I'm not mean,

I'm thinking.

Not about anything particularly,
but everything simultaneously. 

That's what happens when I'm left to my own devices.

I'm Alice
tumbling down the rabbit hole,

grabbing at bubbling elixirs
on my way to the hatter's tea party.
Every possibility in the world is open to me,
and I'm happy
hurling through mind space,
no regard for anything
but wonderland.

I grow and shrink at my own whim,
a warrior and a wee one
whenever I please,
all to rejuvenate my spirit,
heaps more than your eyes
or comments ever could.

You see me walking,
but I'm on a journey
for which a smile is not required.

Besides...
Don't you know it's the smiles you can't trust?
Resting bitch is the world's last sincere expression.
That's a personality with layers,

each one rich and spilling over into the next.

Meaningful...not mean,

guess my pretty just takes more effort to be seen.