Shawnee Mission Northwest High Schol
12701 West 67th Street
United States
39° 0' 24.966" N, 94° 43' 55.992" W

I am white girl

serial number 3044771

born fifteen minutes away from this

suburb fortress of a three car garage

my Sperrys disappeared from the locker room

they’re a size nine

if you have them tweet me because they’re mine

I have an addiction

the instant gratification of a notification

is becoming the foundation of my self-actualization


My closest brush with grief

was the offstage death of a fictional wife

in a wooden sword production of Macbeth

And my eyes shed no tears to humanize

the quantification of suffering

atrocities against mankind reduced by mathematicians

as if lives have no more value than a number

its is good, a phrase only seen in the

rear view mirror when the spoiled goodness we call bad starts to tumble down

I have no right to cry out in pain

sheltered, protected as I am

from what I cannot say

but still I complain

cause what else can a white bread girl do


After all, my desire to learn has been murdered by an army of bullets,

formidable hollow bubbles on a page

the artillery barrage of mail from institutions

seeking my application to improve their reputation

with the addition of my name

to a list titled denied


All of this ammunition could pay for my tuition but why support education

when you can fund militarization


Judging eyes review each play

in this our constantly contested battlefield each day

the points aren’t the point

thats what they say

but why is that the case when more are willing to cheat in this number game than play


Shut up, white girl

Be grateful, education is yours without condition

Stop whining

you should be thankful for all of these opportunities

Stop counting,

your value is predetermined by the circumference of your waistline

stop sleeping

sacrifice your health for the amount of ink on your resume

Stop worrying

you will never amount to so much that it will hurt when you fall


So I sincerely apologize to humanity

for my woes are harmless problems of the first world variety

never threatening this unification of mind, spirit, and body

and attacking others diverts this inundation

of self deprecation

from the moat protecting my fortress to the river defending yours

In my tower lobbing insults over these thick walls

I realize

I have become a willing participant

in this conflict I once ridiculed

in this murder we euphemize as war

So tear down this wall

dive into the flood

of gossip exchanged

of hypocrisy publicized

and anger realized

of judgement verbalized

and of complaints unjustified

the recognition that vulnerability requires less effort

than constructing thicker skin

and humility elicits less pain than this crusade we fight in

that being born and raised in our shade of suburbia beige

is not a curse of ignorance but

a blessing of resources

to share what we have with those who have not

tiny drops of the ocean

are needed for the condensation of precipitation

The realization that perfection

is not an ultimate goal with a single definition

That you are beyond value for the mere fact of your existence

no weapons but willing the good of each

other is the only necessity to finish this battle

with an alternative to victory


So I plead guilty to the accusation

of being no more than a suburban brat with pale pigmentation

Because I gave you that identification

without prior communication

and my silent condemnation

of you like a common acquisition

is merely a reflection of me,

a mirror in retrospection

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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