Girl on the bus

I saw her on the bus the first time
I don’t like her
Her music is loud and she is quiet
The color of her red hair is fading
Pimples cover her face, she looks ashamed, maybe even sad
I can’t read her
She smiles at people but it’s not real and they don’t seem to notice
The world around her is crumbling
Why isn’t she fighting?
Maybe in another life I would have liked her
When she looks at me I know why I don’t
I don’t like her because she is me