Poker faced through the blood rushing to my cheeks
Weak in the knees.
Nervous, Shaking, Controlled breathing
Monitoring every move of me and you.
Reading into a book of blank pages,
like I've been stuck in a cage for ages
forgotten how to speak,
and it's not my day, my week,
myself, I'm usually not like this.
It's just that short phase between talking and
walking to the stage of revealing who I am.
And I've got terrible stage fright, but I love being on the stage.
The contradictions that restricting defining who I am.
Who am I?
Am I just a piece of thread a part of a beautiful gown meant for
someone else to wear?
Wheres my dress?
Can I be my own when I'm just a single thread, being said.
My glass is always half empty.
And I'm just a hormonal mess of puberty at its peak.
But at least its not like my mother,
who in the morning sings
like getting four corners in a bingo game
I never want to win...
I smile. Sideways.
Because I used to only smirk.
Not with my lips but with my heart.
And I've come a long way from Spaz.
The girl who needed attention but never got it the way she wished it,
Like in the coming of age movies when love meant loving yourself the way you needed it.
I needed it.
I was young.
My biggest dream was a day when i'd walk into class
and my friends would be waiting saying
I missed you.
God are you there? I don't ask for much.
Is this all I am?
I trusted too easily.
Now trust is a feeling of 7 level tension I dare not mention on our
first exchange of vulnerability.
God believe in me.
Because I'm losing faith in you. I'm alone.
But I've come a long way from depressing poem of tween anxiety.
That self esteem that was hiding inside of me,
like recess on the wall.
Hearing a joke
about a girl
who thinks shes their friend.
I was just lonely. Somebody please hold me.
Don't let go because I need this before
I'm forced to go back to my default which is the result
of a confused mind but a typical teenage girl.
Because of before I long to never define me even though I keep trying.
Because I think too much and I'll talk too much once you know me.
But I've come a long way and I'm no longer lonely.
So like the end of my favorite movie.
“Don't you forget about me.”
My hands in the air because today I am happy.
Smiling with my eyes, just like Tyra Banks says,
You are the next top model wearing a beautiful dress.
A surprise because the dress was a girl, and the girl was a reflection.
And I, was in front of a mirror.
I had no idea God, could sew with his eyes closed.
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