Sticky
Always grabbing
For compliments
For approval
“You’re so pretty.”
Like jam hands
Young and desperate
Sweet and clingy
Searching
“They can’t resist a beautiful girl like you.”
Is that all I am?
“Beautiful” “Pretty”
That’s all they tell me
Am I nothing else?
“I wish I looked like you.”
Is there no head on my shoulders?
No spine in my back?
Is “pretty” all I have?
Am I nothing but a picture to look at?
“You’re the pretty friend.”
Gooey jam hands grabbing
For any kind words
Of how my looks dazzle
Because
That’s all I’ve ever heard.
Now I’m a "pretty” shell
With nothing worth noticing
Inside.
Call me strong. Call me creative.