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My momma used to comfort me after a long day of bullying by saying, “They’re just jealous.” She wasn’t very in tune with my emotions, but god bless her, because she was right. If I’ve learned anything, as this circus attraction...
...it’s that most people crave attention, while I cannot avoid it. This thread is about those long days, when I endured more than my fair share of Austin Powers references, “I’m gonna chop it up and make guacamole!” May every person who ever made fun of me suck it! I survived...
...6th Grade. It hasn’t hit me yet. I’m still innocent and oblivious enough to think EVERYONE is my friend. “They’re just bustin my chops,” I remember thinking as they laughed, while I spit out their tainted chocolate chip cookie. They had rubbed it all over the metal post...
...nearby. I saw them do it, but gave them the benefit of the doubt. I thought it was a different cookie. We were friends, after all. They then counted to three, and in unison chanted, “mole! mole! mole!” That was one of the rougher days...
...7th Grade. New school, who dis? Oh right, it’s the kid no one knows how to react to. How can someone so u.g.l.y. be so outgoing and jolly? I really tried that year, y’all. Ultimately, I learned a valuable lesson in invisibility. Who’d have thought I had the...
...power to part an entire sea of lunch-having middle schoolers? What’s more, public school doesn’t pay teachers enough to answer intricate worldview building questions of morality. What I mean is, I’m sure they didn’t like my beauty sp...
...ot either, so they were no help. My dad called it a “beauty spot,” by the way. Seventh grade was the first year I called him a liar...
...8th Grade. I got booted from the performing arts school due to low math scores. I was happy about it, though. I had cousins at the new one in my actual district. Unfortunately, the more things change, the more things stay the same...
...9th Grade. Oh boy, oh boy; high school time, babyyyyy! I went into potential adulthood with enormous confidence. It was unwarranted and naive, but dammit I deserved to be content at least, so I slapped that good ole fashioned happiness mask...
...on for all to see. It worked for half the year. I even had a consultation with a doctor at the end of it to have my wonderful little spot removed, but it could not be done. Too dangerous...
...10th Grade. I checked out at this point. They pushed me past accepting myself, and straight into hiding. I grew my hair out with the sole purpose of covering up my fella on my forehead. I still haven’t forgiven myself for it, maybe I nev...
...er will. I ditched a lot that year, and the following two years after that. In fact, I barely graduated, because I could not stand to be trapped inside of a soul crushing institution with my oppressors. I escaped, mentally and physically, to run from assholes who hated...
...me for the attention I got. It was a vicious cycle, and its lonely shadow is casted heavily upon each poem I write...
...I grew out my lion’s mane again, but I never hide my hairy homie. I wear him proudly like a badge of honor, head held high, if only slightly jaded.
#poetry
#beauty
#athread
#wherethemetaphorhides
#poetry
#beauty
#athread
#wherethemetaphorhides
