Never will it be said
That she was a genius.
Never will it be said
That she was talented.
Never will it be said
That she spoke kindly.
Never will it be said
That she was beautiful.
Never will it be said
That she carried value.

What will be said
Is that she was normal.
That she was average.
That she was capable
of ******* everything up.
That she didn't try enough,
didn't achieve enough,
didn't listen to what
would have saved her soul.
What will be said
Is that she wasn't terrible,
just mean.
Is that she wasn't stupid,
just dumb.
Is that she wasn't a gem,
just a pebble.

Scuffed soul,
scuffed body.
Imperfections layered
to cover the disappointments
of never being
anything
of worth.