random shit and thoughts

Fail

I will always be that type of person.
The type of person to be described a dumb blonde,
I have terrible grades,
A terrible mind.

"How much is a D+?" I ask Sarah."
"I'm not sure?" Sarah replies.
"You got a D+?" A classmate repeats walking over to me.
I look around,
Everyone staring.
Shit.
I was too loud.
Everyone could tell.
"No?" I say hiding my paper of embarrassment.
"Mind your own business!" Sarah defends.
I smile at her,
"It's the best I've ever gotten!" I chuckle,
I walk away,
Guilt, shame
I take the paper out of my folder,
And stuff it in the bottom of my locker.
Hoping my mom doesn't notice a paper missing.

But every time,
At dinner, my grandpa asks.
Asks about our grades.
I fiddle with my fingers silently,
Evan brags.
"What about you."
"Oh uh-" I mumble.
"She has to get a phone when she gets good grades-!" My mom exclaimed.
You could tell she was sweating.
Embarrassment, shared between us.

Science class.
"Grades don't define your smartness!" I argue.
"Well, what are your grades then-?" The classmate teased.
"Better then yours!" I break eye contact,
"All A's? I doubt it."
"Whatever. You could be Albert Einstein and have bad grades."
"Yeah, but he didn't have terrible grades." He laughed.
"Whatever!" I sat back down as class started.

If grades defined your smartness,
I would be more than stupid.

I cry in the shower, eyes puffed.
My mom thinks it's the hot water.
Really I play back in my head:
"When will I be good enough for you?"
"I try, I swear. I have tried so far to get to the grades I have currently."
"I will do better!"
"Would you care? Would you care more about me? If I got a better score?"

I could just it in the mirror,
Imagine me.
Imagine me with a imaginary marker,
Imagine me drawing a clown design.
All over my eyes, I would draw lines.
My cheeks, red dots.
Red spreading across my face starting from my smile.
And too top it off, a styrofoam red nose.

Because I will always be considered the "failure."