Living The Stereotype

7pm on a Friday night, the breeze blowing through my skirt.

Itchy poms in my hands, dazzling the crowd as the game begins.

The smell of the mud is comfortable, the box I stand upon as my throne.

Captain of the squad, they say I had it all, but I’ve never felt so alone.

 

There he goes, passing the object of desire

Another intercepted pass, yet we cheer him no less

He is my boyfriend, after all.

I cheer him on, I rally the crowd, that plastic smile permanently plastered.

 

There is no life I’ve known or desired,

This is what I learned would satisfy me.

I feel the game day rush as I curl my hair and Mr. Quarterback boyfriend caresses my back.

Isn’t this what it’s all about? The lip gloss, the homecoming crown, the perfect grades.

My favorite accessories to fool you.

 

At halftime, I dance, to prove that I am more than I appear to be.

I’ve been told how lucky I am to have all that I’ve received, yet I’ve never felt like I’ve had less.

 

After the winning pass was thrown by Mr. Quarterback, he sweeps me into his arms.

“Baby, I love you, now give me what I need.” I succumbed so easily. 

His oceanic eyes and wheat field hair flustered me, I was convinced that our love was eternal.

 

The season went on, every Friday the same, life flying by like a breeze.

It came to a halt when he ripped out my heart and told me that he never loved me.

My life came to a stop, but life around me continued.

The leaves fell from the trees, the snow hit the ground, and I retired my blue poms for good.

A vulnerable mess was made of me, it was like my whole life fell apart.

 

What actually happened was dramatically less impactful to anyone but me.

Mr. Quarterback found a new pleasure, while my life was in shambles. 

 

I could not believe it took me so long to realize

The materialism that I called my life.

I began to heal and became myself

An actual human being.

 

I graduated with honors, being known as the cheerleader, 

but now there was so much more to me.

I lived in a stereotype that I deemed perfection and fell apart when I involuntarily lost it.

My perfect life was gone, along with that jerk, and I finally begin to live.

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