Every morning 

My dad writes me a note on a napkin
He thinks I don’t read them

But every “have a good day!”

Is tucked away 

Into an old blue shoebox under my bed

Freshman year this boy wrote me a letter

With the words: why do you come to school looking like you just rolled out of bed?

I stored the words in my mind 

And the paper in a shoe box 

Now I wear dresses almost every day
And wake up 20 minutes earlier to do my makeup


I’ve been telling myself I’m over you 

But I pull your shoebox out of my closet

I cry over our photo strips and 

The origami flower you made me

When you didn’t have money for a real bouquet 

As I put the box back I tell myself

Maybe next time I’ll throw it away

The flower is crushed and soggy anyway.

Every time I buy a new pair of shoes 

I keep the box
It keeps my arms from aching too much

From the weight of all the things I hold on to.

This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but
Delicate bones and pearly whites
My essence captured through awkward captions and
My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
A photograph carefully composed
Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight]

This is to the boys who see me as nothing but
Geometric shapes
Circles and curves and parabolas
**** and *** and legs and waist
And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be
My “radical ideas” make me a butterface

This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but
3.97 and a good SAT score
A scholar of great potential
That will donate millions or more
As an honored alumni
Of the greatest institution in the world

This is to society, that sees me as nothing but
A golden gal who always colored inside the lines
Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles

“She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined”
Determined but docile
Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind

This is to myself, because I see that
My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams
Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams  
And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please
You are not my dictator or an office label machine
It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.

You're always talking to him,
Its not even cool.

You talk to him on facebook,
He looks like a ghoul.

I really ******* hate him,
I wish he would die.

Please stop talking to him,
You're making me cry.

I won't stop loving you,
no matter the cost.

But please stop talking to him,
You're making me feel lost.

I lost you once I lost you twice
Our relationship was like a sheet of ice

It fell apart I broke you heart
We just need a brand new start

Forget the past free at last
Let's not take it way to fast

You look so stunning
I'm jealous of him
Your face is pretty as can be
I really hate him
My soul melts when our eyes meet
I can't ******* stand him
We ran away together
*He's jealous of me