She put a post-it on the ceiling
And under the carpet in the hall
She tacked up little index cards
Behind the pictures on the wall

She stuffed her message in a bottle
And pushed it back behind the shelf
She pressed her crumpled, scribbled napkin
Into the hand of someone else

She spread her silent word and waited
For someone's eye to catch her own
But all her notes were left forgotten
And so she waited all alone

The days dragged by, the nights grew long
Her pleas collected dust, unread
She wondered if her postmarked names
Had given up and left her dead

She drummed her fingers on the table
Dull patience only lasts so long
She stood and screamed, was told to shut up
Because her selfishness was wrong

So she retreated to her corner
And in her mind, her papers fell
In a fluttering rain of sorrow and pain
When all she wanted was some