I don’t blame you.
Honestly, I don’t.

I don’t blame you for judging me,
labeling me,
for me.

I’m a twin.
Apparently, I should know exactly where the other half is.:
I should know exactly what she’s thinking.
Exactly what’s going through her mind,
and apparently, I don’t have that power.

I’m a twin.
I don’t get everything I want.
I have to have approval
by the other half
before I get anything.
I don’t know about you,
but that’s why I don’t have good things.

“I don’t want to make her feel bad!”
You think you’re being nice.
You think your saying
“I’m trying to help the both of you!”
To me you’re saying
“You don’t get this because you’re different than everyone else!”
Didn’t we get past that?
Didn’t we get past people supposedly being less fortunate
because they were born different?

I have blonde hair.
I hate blonde jokes.
A blonde crashed a helicopter.
A police officer asked what happened.
She says, “it got cold so I turned the fan off”!”
Haha. I get it.
It’s funny because blondes are dumb.
Blondes are stupid.
Blondes are special.
Ok. I guess I shouldn’t be here right now.
Giving this poem.
Bye then!

Oh, wait!
But that’s not all!
I have blue eyes too!
I must be Barbie!
Blonde hair? Blue eyes?
I’m a Barbie girl in a normal world.
Life in plastic…
fantastic is not the word.

Constantly getting judged
because I am a twin.
Because I am a blonde.
Because I am a Barbie.
I’m a dumb, know-it-all, Barbie.

Does that make any sense to you?
Cause even though I am a blonde,
and it might be different since my own mind is different
than a brunette,
it doesn’t to me.