Her small hand grips the gray rubber strap.
Her hand tightens with every curve of the crowded bus.
Her body sways around the backpacks,
Why do we need to fill the air with words so a five
Minute bus ride is less awkward?
Her coat becomes tighter with every pointless conversation.
With every intake of breath.
The hum of the bus is drowning.
Drowning out particular sentences and words.
The voices become apart of the hum.