A Selection of Poetry

She

She was red, because people thought she was attractive and heartwarming
She was green, because people thought she loved nature and got jealous easily
She was blue, because people thought she was quiet and reserved
She was yellow, because people thought she was optimistic and full of joy
She was pink because people thought she was immature and oversensitive

She was not purple because people thought she was predictable
She was not orange because people thought she was fragile
She was not gray because people thought she was attached
She was not brown because people thought she was undependable

She was...what they thought she was.

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When I was Five, they smiled at me adoringly
When I was Six, they told me I was lovable
When I was Seven, they told me I was a prodigy
When I was Eight, they told me I was smart
When I was Nine, they told ‘I love you just the way you are’
When I was Ten, they compared me to the other kids
When I was Eleven, they told me ‘try harder’
When I was Twelve, they looked at me up and down
When I was Thirteen, they told me ‘never mind’
Then I was Fourteen, they closed the door on me

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Picture Perfect

She had glistening pale skin
She had ocean blue eyes
She had gracefully thin eyelashes
She had red plump lips
She had smooth blonde hair
She had a beautifully defined collarbone
She had long slender fingers
She had an hourglass figure
She had everything I was told to be

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While they walked on a stone pavement with flowers blooming, we trailed along the sidewalk
As they sipped from the wine glass, we chewed on the rim of the paper cup
While they posed for photographs, we were taking the photographs
As they were nominated for ‘the best of the century,’ we were discarded
While they grinned from ear to ear, we clenched our fists pushing our nails into the palm of our hands
As they received praise from the blind and deaf, we squeezed our eyes shut and turned our backs

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I looked outside the door, there were buildings
A bunch of windows
I looked around the house, there were plants
A bunch of leaves
I looked around my room, there were books
A bunch of chapters
I looked inside my drawer, there were jewelry boxes
A bunch of accessories
I looked at the mirror, there was somebody
No.
That’s not me.

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