Went to a poetry slam today, had no idea what poetry slam was. Lol big fail, discovered another thing I am completely, ridiculously and pathetically bad at. At least a poem came out of it!
Anyway this is the edited version-shorter.
A meek girl once stood on the stage
there was a mike, a voice,
what lacked was courage!
Her legs shook, and palms filled itself with a million droplets of her own shame.
She had asked her mum a day before,
mum, what if the mike falls?
Her mum smiled and said, you pick it right back up.
That was a while ago.
The face is now covered with a beautiful cascade,
the peach melding to black, a peach she wishes did not exist.
The blinds of her window still lets the light creep in,
and renders the camouflage futile.
She stood on the door as the wind played
with the spider’s elaborately carved web,
like a thin plastic flask of a discarded cold cream,
her translucent bodice lets the light pass through,
illuminating her papery skin.
Mum,my skin is covered with maps which know no treasures,
and my face is home to undulating terrains,
I do not fit into these size 0 jeans,
and I do not have the confidence you so easily display.
I’ll never be enough, I’ll never be enough.
She says she needs someone to see within her,
but she knows there is nothing extraordinary,
she is like an empty book with an attractive cover,
she is made of vacuous dreams and misplaced priorities,
there is so little she knows, so circumscribed is her hemisphere,
there are lives she hasn’t lived,
times she hasn’t seen,
thoughts she never thinks of,
leading a life of ignorance.
She didn’t go to her mum, when she decided to lay on the cold linoleum floor,
and pop the white pills one by one-then all at once.
She will never be a lady, not anymore.
Sometime while fitting in, she forgot to pick up the mike back up.
Escapist 