I have never felt beautiful.
Never. No. Not me.
But there was a sundress I owned
in the fifth grade when things weren't so bad.
And I wore that dress on a sunny day in May;
I wore it confidently.
It had orange and white stripes
and it reminded me of popsicles.
Maybe that was why on that sunny day in May
a man tried to get me to follow him.
My sister told me not to listen to the people
who stood awkwardly outside of schoolyards.
But I couldn't help but think that maybe
that awkwardly standing man thought I was beautiful.
And maybe that is why I seek love in men
who always seem to have cruel intentions.
Or maybe, it's just the reason why
I enjoy the orange cream popsicles so much.
Donning her joy like a pearly new necklace, she graces the ballroom.
She adjusts her pretty red dress that rests just below her ankles, so that she can move more freely.
She twists and turns and sways to the music playing in her mind.
Her hair shifts from being in a neat bun to wildly at her shoulders, and she is free.
When she locks eyes with the moonlight, her pupils widen with pure amazement.
As she blushes, her cheeks turn crimson, and she goes to the balcony.
She reaches towards it, with at first a step.
Then a leap.
She is with her moon; joy and pretty red dress and all.
And at the bottom of her palace, a pool of her pretty red dress is all that remains.
I heard the jingling
of the ice cream truck,
and it took me back
to a time
when things were going fine.
I used to not stress
about the stains upon my dress
and I only cared for
the cute boy next door.
I ran outside
and the jingling grew faint.
It drove too quick
with no kids behind it.
And here I am, stressed
about how to live with being depressed
and I only care for
a stupid boy who hurt me to the core.
i will put on my dress and slip on my shoes
and look myself in the eyes.
me to me
goodbye to all the hatred.
goodbye to all the anger.
goodbye to all the jealousy.
goodbye to me.
i will lay down on the earth
waiting to be absorbed into the rich soil
and pray and pray and pray
that when i am rebirthed.
i am every bit as beautiful
I remember the first time I saw you
I was wearing that flowery dress
You said I looked beautiful
I actually thought I did that day
I danced that day
and from a distance you were watching
I felt free and bold
You kissed my cheek
I remember the butterflies
But memories are like ashes in the wind
Once there only to be flown away
Because that is what they will always be
Just distant Memories
You woke up, showered and thinking about what else you should do.
Until you met her.
Standing in the empty street.
The street light lit up as so did your eyes.
your eyes was on fire, because she was burning you up.
She haven’t noticed you looking at her.
She never left your gaze.
Her red dress hugging all her figures.
She stared forward, never tearing her eyes away.
You blinked and she had disappeared.
You felt numb as you looked across the street to find her.
Kissing someone that wasn’t you.
You backed away, waking up and showered.
Continued on your daily routine of never have seen her.
In that yellow dress
She wears the one
Just like mine
The flowers designed
Makes her eyes shine
So I sat behind
Because I know
And the people know
And he knows
That she wears that dress
Better than I ever did.
happy New Years to
the girls like me,
who forgive and forget as if
yesterday didn't hurt
and tie knots over wounds
like they lace up shoes
happy New Years to
all the boys who still cry
at night, over
their fathers who don't love them
and things they were never
taught to say
and happy New Years to
everyone in between, to those
who can't tell black from
good from bad, and still don't
how to dress at night
tomorrow might be better.
We sit only 3 feet apart
Yet you refuse to look at me
Compliments no where
Despite the dress I'm in
The dress you bought
You called me pretty
Then laughed hysterically
At my surprised face
Of course -.-
Again I'm only a joke to you
I cannot wait until the food gets here
Hopefully I won't throw it at you
Although that would be fun
But the faster I eat the better
So I can leave this darkly lit restaurant
Away from your stupid grinning face
Out of this beautifully formal dress
And into my elmo footie pajamas
I hate dating.