Girl From Nowhere

“She said she was a girl from nowhere.
But with her, I remembered
what it was like to live.
To find home.”

She said she was a girl from nowhere. But with her, I remembered what it was like to live. To find home. I could hear the music floating in the night. With her, I knew what it meant to have more than just a pulse running through my veins. A pulse with a reason to keep beating. And even though she said she was made up of a mosaic of broken pieces — just like me — I still felt like we fit, like two parts of a puzzle. What were the odds, she’d mused, that a girl from nowhere would find another lost soul like hers? When she came into my life, I told her, suddenly, it wasn’t just the lonely, sad drum beat of a heart — the whole orchestra began to play in Technicolor. It was a perfect song. Complete with fireworks. I told her how she brought me to life by loving me. That she was the most beautiful song I’d ever heard. Because it was the song of us. The opus of two souls from nowhere. She smiled then, but it was just a ghost of its former glory. And somehow, I knew, like all songs, the music would end. When it did, it would drift off into the night.

Just like her.

© Sarah Doughty

After all, she was
just a girl from nowhere.

This was written for day twenty
of November Notes.
The Girl From Ipanema
by Joāo Gilberto, Astrud Gilberto, & Stan Getz