On Monday, i am invisible;
nobody seems to know i exist.

On Tuesday, i am a glass door;
visible, but sometimes forgotten.

On Wednesday, i am a three leaf clover;
nothing special.

On Thursday, i am a camera without a memory card;
there, but unwanted.

On Friday, i am a pea;
noticed, but ignored.

On Saturday, i am a fun-sized candy bar;
respected, but never good enough.

On Sunday, I am a queen.
I have survived another week in my life,
and it feels amazing.

Until ten o'clock at night
when i realize in nine hours i will be invisible again.
I try to enjoy my last moments as queen,
but it’s hard to pretend when reality hits you.

I cannot decide if i like Sunday.
It is like a bag of chips.
In the beginning, they are both pleasing.
You have no school for the second time that week, you have a deliciously unhealthy, but wanted, snack.
But then,
you realize there is school tomorrow, you realize you have been defrauded and the bag is practically empty.
They always end in disappointment.

I cannot decide if the good balances with the bad,
or if one is overweighed.

I cannot decide if i prefer six and a half days of disappointment,
or half a day of bluffing myself.

I cannot decide if i like being queen,
or if it is a waste of time.

I cannot decide if pretending is superior to knowing what i am.

I cannot decide if life is enjoyable when it is like a broken record,
the same situations repeating over and over.

Because before i am able to decide on anything,
i am too busy being invisible again.