Nothing changed,
except me,
the very last of those girls,
who skipped, so drunk,
down the royal roads,
to imagine our lives could be whatever we dreamed of.
Now the girls are gone,
they are fine,
I imagine.
We send digital hearts,
online,
to say,
“Hey, I’m not dead.
Glad you aren’t either.”
I have returned,
the very last,
the very loneliest,
of those Greenwich Glamour Girls,
unable to get what I need from a screen,
or these streets.
I tried the library,
seeing myself on seats,
and shelves,
surrounded by myself,
I sighed,
slumped against the serene scene of where I grew,
and imagined my life could be whatever I dreamed of,
and I dream,
again,
hoping I get it right this time.
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 
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