I prepared myself for this, I was made for this, I say. Taking a step forward, With my ponytail all the way. Maybe if I stood straight, they won't notice, my body shake amidst the apposer, who saw me and called me over. Reviewing my file, she smelled of pity and smiled judgment. a juxtaposed understanding, of my mocking opposition.
she held a flower, crushed it and offered it to me.
Each petal being a dying answer.
This understanding chaos that threatened to devour.
Did she know. How it felt, to walk back, empty.
To walk through corridors, feeling shut from opportunity.
To hear each step stutter in regret.
And walk past your hopes, heart heavy.
I don't need your pity, I don't need your understanding.