The One that Not Many Get to See


United States
40° 40' 38.208" N, 74° 0' 34.0092" W

Dark eyes, dark hair;

The spitting image of Dad.

Grandpa jokingly says,

"Maybe you'll grow out of it."

Just maybe.

But I'll always be a daddy's girl.


Pick a spot

Pick an experiment

Pick a hobby.

I'll be there, I'll do it, I'll try it.

I seem to be pretty good at spreading myself

Too thin sometimes.


Three main locations,

Three main personalities.

I swear I’m not crazy, though.

Find me at: work, school, home

On any given day.

You see me and see…


The smart girl in class leaving for college soon

The quiet girl at her quiet library job

But what about the other girl?

The one that not many get to see


She laughs too loud,

Loves too hard,

And gives too much.

So busy;

Day in, day out.


So sometimes she just has to

Hide parts of herself away,

Such as

Sudden frustration for no reason,

Exercising laziness by third period,

Discontent when it comes to deep thinking.


All coupled with her

Reasons, reasons, reasons

For what’s said, what’s done, what’s been hidden.

But the real question – why?

It’s simple really, revolving around

A singular, universal thought:



That girl is me

And I’ve been told,

“You care too much.”

I didn’t realize that could be bad.

But apparently so

If for all the wrong reasons.

But since when did worrying about others,

Their wellbeing,

Their feelings and opinions

Become bad?

I must have missed the memo.

There’s no way all that could be bad,

But apparently so.


Yet I’m oddly okay with that.

I know who I am

What I want

Where I’m going.

I recognize all my flaws

And I accept them,

Hold them close.


I am who I choose to be.

My mantra,

“It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks

So long as it makes sense to you.”

I am that girl.

The one that not many get to see.


I'm the girl that loves food,

Listens to Lana del Rey,

Would spend a weekend camping

Rather than out on the town.

The one that people think they know.

The girl that's unpredictable.


Yet even with that girl's

Bulgarian roots,

Love for 1970s rock n’ roll,

Creative writing,

And bonfire parties

She’s no different from any other girl

With her own hopes

And aspirations for a successful future.

This poem is about: 


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