She was the type who never said, "Thank you,"
hurt her to say, "Hello," or "I'm sorry,"
even the slightest gesture that would show
what made these speech acts worthwhile to others,
as if she were a hole in the ozone,
some guys tried to make fun, tried to taunt her,
they got nowhere, she paid no attention,
however often they acted like boys,
even her boss had to kowtow to her,
though, she were no older than twenty-one,
yesterday's valedictorian bloomed,
pretty as the daddy's girls she was not,
everyone steered clear of her at the prom,
"wicked as a witch," some of the girls thought,
high school memories quickly forgotten,
only she couldn't quite ever forget,
nothing disappeared from her memory,
every phrase ever spoken by someone,
verbatim, with date and time acknowledged,
every word ever read, every image
recalled, she tried to accept this strange gift,
she developed a bad reputation,
as she became an adult, she grew mute
in a way deaf people didn't care for,
depending on others' moods, she observed
"Thank you," "I'm sorry," and "Hello" were all
human social interactions to gain
acceptance as an insider, a clique,
normal people who mimic each other,
kiss both cheeks to say "Hello" or "Good Bye,"
yesterday, she looked into the mirror
only to punch the vanity it served,
useless shattered lives, no way to escape.
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