It was my cousin's wedding reception,
And I wore some creamy lacey dress
That had to be approved of by my mother
Before I shoved it in a bulging duffel bag to endure the
Six hours of Dunkin Donuts bathroom stops
And that weird stop-and-go traffic that makes me
Feel like the color green.
As I stood at the brim of the dance floor,
Trying to ignore the half-drunk staggering relatives of mine,
I thought about whether it's
Polite to pry your eight inch
Torture-o-thon heels
From your swollen toes
Before anyone else bothers.
There was a boy on the other end of the disco lights,
A silhouette that I knew to be slightly more muscular than the last time I'd seen it.
Just about my age, or maybe eight months older if you had to ask him,
Which I had about thirteen years earlier
With some sand in the crotch of
My Gymboree bathing suit.
I tried my best not to look over.
The lights mostly blinded me,
But I still wished to glance at him to see how straight his teeth were and how his acne had cleared up
Because of
Neutrogena SkinID Plus
Or something.
I could tell that he was looking at me,
At the too short lacey dress
And my straight teeth
And my peachy skin
And I wanted so badly to peek over.
I wanted him to ask me to dance,
Please oh God ask me to dance.
(Of course he didn't.)
He was a shy kid, even at seventeen.
He didn't say a word to me all night,
Even though we'd gone to the beach together
Since I was in Huggies.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
That I'm cute
Beautiful
Pretty
And I tell them that
It's okay that I'm not
Because I know I'm not
But I don't like being lied to
I know I'm not
Because I can't let tears
Drip down my cheeks
As they shimmer in the dim light
Of the movie credits
I sob until
My face is red and damp and puffy
And I'm clinging to your sleeve
And just crying so uncontrollably
That people sitting next to us
In the dark theater
Might glimpse over to see if maybe
I have a reason to cry so hard.
Does shehave cancer?
Is she missing a leg?
Did her crack-addict mother die when she was an infant?
Why is this bratty straight white blonde girl crying while watching Selma/Dallas Buyer's Club/The Help?
I have to brush my hair
Instantly
When I get out of the pool
In the summer
(Hopping from foot to foot of course
Because the sun has baked the concrete)
Because if I don't
It becomes a half-curly knotted mess.
And if I don't braid it directly after that
Then it dries
In resemblance to a Yield Sign
In a somewhat triangular form
And I'm chubby.
Not fat. It would be better if I were fat.
If I were fat then things would be
Proportionalish
But instead I'm just
A 5'2 and 3/4" girl
With DDs that no one wants
Because ***** don't count when you're chubby"
And baby fat that lounges on my stomach
No matter how many kilometers I row.
My fingers are too small for my hands.
My glasses make my eyes look huge.
My lips are forever chapped.
My cheeks are overly red.
My eyes are too dark to be pretty
And I know it.
I know all of it.
I've lived in my body for longer than you have.
So don't lie to me.
Don't tell me that I'm cute
Beautiful
Or god forbid pretty
Because I really
Really
Hate being lied to.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
It made me
Sick.
The kind of sick
That books describe
As green,
Ghostly skinned
With red rust noses.
Sick to my stomach
Like when you wake up
At 2:00 AM
And realize that
Something
Is
Not
Right
Before you sprint
Down the hall
To the bathroom
And ***** pizza bagels into the
Pristine marble sink.
It made me sick like
When it gets so bad that
Blowing your nose hurts
Because the extra soft Kleenex
Have scratched your skin raw
Over
And
Over
Again.
It made me sick
When I realized
That it wasn't you that I loved
But the feeling of being loved.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
I guess I just expected
Something else
It happens every year,
I get excited
Hopeful
Giddy
That maybe
This year will be
Different.
Maybe I'll find an awesome friend
Who does my nails
And answers calls at two am
Like Nicole did
Before she moved to California
Or she could be like Kayla
Who would be silly with me in
Drama class
And use chocolate sauce for blood
In our Black and White movie
Before her dad died in combat
And she went to bury him in
Some foreign country
Where cell phones
Don't count
Or a boyfriend like Louis
That I could see a future with
Sitting listening to Relient K
In a college dorm
With a million years to spare
Before he left for London
But the girl in front of me
In English
Pops her gum for the boy
In the next desk
And could poke my eye out
With her fake straightened hair.
The girl in my drama class
Cakes on her mask and
Participates in pageant after pageant
And calls her anorexia
A diet
And I heard the rumor
That the boy I thought was cute
In chemistry
Was caught ********* his
Girlfriend
Under her desk in
Español Dos.
I didn't think my standards were too high to meet.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
I once read
That in 7.6 billion years
The sun
Having reached its maximum size
Will shine 3,000 times brighter
Than it does now
I have always wondered
How it is possible
To know such a thing
When 100 years
Is beyond a lifetime
How we could possibly
Look so far into the future
When now seems like an eternity
And tomorrow is miles away
How can we embrace the moment
When we are constantly being told to plan ahead
And what's the point
Of waiting 7.6 billion years
When the sun is already
Shining
And the moon
Already loves her?
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
To the boys who just want to touch me
You must know that I am not a momentary happiness type of person
Overthinking is my forté
My name is not chastity
Nor is it easy rather
Difficult and complicated
Hard to crack open
There is no sweet center waiting to be divulged
I am more like the sun
A ball of pure fire that burns at the touch
Anxious at the thought of unfamilar palms and fingertips
Meant to be admired from a distance
I will warn you not to get close to me
For magnets swim in my blood
And I cling to no extent
I am
Surrounded by a force field
I do not let down my guard
So if you want to touch me
You must first
Learn to love me.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
I have a boyfriend
I shout to myself,
Pinching my upper thigh
And blinking away from
The sight of them.
She giggles and I notice
Her laugh is lopsided
And she's too short
To be that loud.
Her shoulders are too far forward
And even I notice the
Gross stain on her
Upper left canine
Between her braces
That are bright, neon green.
She's my best friend.
I don't mean to think of her in that way,
I love her like a sister.
But it pops into the front of my brain
When I see them together.
I don't even like him
In that way
Anymore.
I have a boyfriend,
And all he was
Was a whispered fifth grade crush.
That's what I tell myself.
He looks at her like
She's a million bucks.
Her crooked teeth
Earn her six cents,
In my opinion.
I take it back within a second,
But the thought was still there.
Jealousy makes me into a monster.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
My heart goes numb
And my stomach turns sour
When it becomes apparent
That best male actor
Has been won by a man
With an alliterative name
And I still have
The same number of
Oscars
As Leonardo DiCaprio
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
He came to my house
Wearing his dark jacket and
Cold fingers
With no prior notice.
The doorbell echoed at
Nine oh six
And my mom said she'd get it.
I was watching Netflix
And shoveling semi-melty
Ice cream into my mouth.
He said hi to my mom
And he rushed up the stairs
Into my laundry-flooded bedroom
He wrapped his arms around me
So tight that I wasn't keen to let go.
He smelled like bitter outside
And broken trees
And choking regret.
I smelled like
Fake roses
And ***** pajamas
That were freshly cried into.
My shirt sleeves were wet.
When he kissed me,
I tasted like
The aftermath of
Black cherries
And sad music.
He tasted like love.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC