So afraid of failure,
of obesity,
of someone looking at me
in repulse and disgust,
mortified to find
the blemishes on my skin
and even more repelled
by the open sores
of my heart.
I'm afraid of being misunderstood,
understood perfectly,
being laughed at for being
eccentrically extraordinary,
and at the same time in my hovering frame,
traditional values are the bones
that make me, I'm afraid of being boring
and old-fashioned.
I'm afraid of that rancid undertone in your voice,
laced with scorn,
when you say, "It's okay, I understand.
You don't have to if you don't want to."
Sometimes I wish I could skip out
on parts of life altogether;
much like an acne-scarred,
buck-toothed,
fat,
bulimic,
awkward
tall girl
wishes
she could skip out on high school.
But where is the fun in that?
Relief is only momentary,
temporary
and solitary in such things,
and 20?
20 is coming my way.
Whether I like it or not.
