in the back of his head

I wrote this at a waiting room today on my cell phone.

She pressed her ear against the wall, begging for some sign of life. She finally heard the familiar whistling smile of a man. She hated that regular satisfied tune, and the broken noes that hung in the dry, still air. Eventually she'd get sick of pacing and staring, and drowning herself in her loneliness. When she knocked on the thick brick walls and yelled for attention, the sound waves would disappear and the heavy weight of the walls would laugh at how she was so sincere. She felt like evaporating, leaving the tasteless scent of self pity behind. She wanted to be erased, to go missing because she felt so worthless in the emptiness. He was so confident and she was so lost in his love. For himself. She eventually lost touch with the monotonous life she lived. All the friendships she faked, all the dreams she dozed through. The lie she lived was real. And in his deadly embrace she'd weep into the ocean and beg for his light because it was the only way she could survive. And after all the shame and pain it was only now that she realized that this is how beautiful life was in the back of his head.