She Poem by Maya Hanson

She



When it comes to a shot at happiness
I usually run in fear
I put on a show that night for
you, just for
you.

I'm not really like this.
My greatest offense is
laughing too loudly.
My dramatic walk is for
you, just for
you.

She sits up
high on her throne,
the top of the monkey bars
on a playground I used to love
But now it reminds me of that night.

She talks,
laughs
easily,
without asking any questions,
without doubting herself,
smiling and sweeping
she brings in the boys.

She's a storm,
rain pounding harder
until you have no choice
but to let yourself get wet.

I sprint after her,
always a follower,
always her beta,
always second in line.
But it's too late.
She's already moved on
to another town
another set of monkey bars
another boy who will kiss her
laugh with her
and think he loves her.

I'm not like her.
But that night
I played her game
I showed off my best side for
you, just for
you.

Monday, July 28, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: jealousy
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