This year
I will be
graduating.
High school.
Volunteering,
every week.
Editing,
the neighborhood newsletter.
Getting published,
I mean actually published.
Getting baptised,
doing His will.
Opening doors for others,
saying 'please' and 'thank you',
laughing at the right times and saying the right things.
They think I'm perfect.
I'm the straight-A,
overachieving,
child prodigy turned genius girl,
god fearing young lady,
saving my family single-handedly.
Because I'm everything they wish they were.
Only I'm not.
This life isn't happening to me,
just someone with my name
and clothes
and hair
and eyes
and smile.
That girl is perfect.
I am
so
not.
I know it's not me because
I'm
scared of roller coasters,
still sleeping with the night light on,
too shy,
quiet when I should speak up,
too plain,
overlooked in a crowd,
nervous around guys,
scared of change,
afraid to take the jump,
and completely
unsure
of almost everything.
So that perfect girl they all see?
The one who kinda makes up for
all her family's losers?
That can't be me.
Gold trophy winner
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