It's Day #8 of NaPoWriMo. I started this poem with something more Easter-y in mind, but this is what came out. Bandages don't always allow wounds to heal... it only hides it for a while.
"Reflections"
By Jamie D.
Was it the way she wore her hair or the clothes she wore
I wanted to be her.
I pictured myself hanging out with her friends
And laughing at their jokes
When she made an “A”
It was like I had some personal achievement
Everything about her was perfect
Who looked like that in 3rd grade?
Every whispered rumor greeted her name
And I the recipient often wondered the truth behind it
Black girls hair couldn’t be that long
So she must be mixed
Her eyes kind of chinky
So she must be asian
She’s mighty light to be black
Only original white skin can look that flawless
Even in size we all failed in comparison
I still sporting an undershirt
and her growing out of a training bra
All my hopes to be like her
To be friends with her
Crashed and exploded
The first and consecutive times
She laughed
At me
Joked
On me
I loved every perfection that she graced
And like broken glass I shattered at how
incomplete and unfinished I was
She was polished and refined
How had my innocent admiration
Turned into a puddle of shame at my own face
I wanted to be her
The unspoken disconnection became real
I had transformed from being a vapor
in her presence
to being seen
and I hurt her eyes
I looked funny
I wasn't on her level.
but still I wanted to be her
Maybe if we traded places
she'd see the me
that I saw
or maybe we'd be equals
I wanted to be her.
-unfinished
(261 words)
8:51pm
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