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raingirlpoet Sep 2014
Dear Wish Granting Factory
I know you said you are not the world
But for a minute,
Can you be?

Dear Wish Granting Factory
You asked me what I would wish for
If you existed
Right now, in this moment, I believe
You exist

What do I wish for?
Oh, Wish Granting Factory
I wish to know the sensation of feet slapping against pavement and lungs burning so bad that you feel you are going to faint
I wish to know that the muscles in my fingers will not fail me when I spread them and cross my arms over to make the Nerdfighter gang sign
I wish to know what it is like to look at myself in the mirror and think
I like the way I look

Dear Wish Granting Factory
I wish to see myself clearly through the eyes of someone
That Someone Who will one day look at me like I am the most beautiful thing in existence
I wish to know that that love exists and it is not just a figment of my imagination
Dear Wish Granting Factory
Do William Darcys really exist?
If so, please point me in that direction so I can find him

Dear Wish Granting Factory
I wish to make a difference in this society in which I am the minority
That my voice may be heard loudly and clearly even though it trembles
That my story be told truthfully and I, a person, a human being with feelings and emotions and thoughts that are not invalid because I have a disability and are therefore “inept” am represented as I see myself
A strong, confident, young girl who is living her life the way she wants to see it and nothing will hold me back.
Disabilities do not define me now, nor will they ever

Dear Wish Granting Factory
I wish to live to see the day when I meet my birth mother and face her
As a stranger, though her daughter
And tell her these words
I love you
I forgive you
I missed knowing you

Dear Wish Granting Factory
Sincerely,
Z
Lacey Anderson Feb 2012
This body you see in from of you
Is only the shell of who I am
Protecting me from those who wish to harm

You don’t know the people I love
You don’t realize that the comma I missed in my essay
was a secret rebellion against grammarians

I’m a sister, I’m a sinner
I’m a girl who’s trying to find her keys
I’m a Mormon, I’m a nerdfighter
And I do what I please

I need a little bit of pizza
a lot of love
And I need to get OUT of this town

I wear pajama pants
Every. Single. Tuesday.
Because sometimes I need to sleep in another 12 minutes

I write about how I feel
How I think
And what’s real

I don’t need to swear
to sound like I know what I’m talking about

This is my poetry
This is my life

And I’m not apologizing

— The End —