i met him
at a party
where i was afraid
and intimidated by
the cluster of boys,
all reminding me of the prowling beasts
i had ducked past many times before.
if i'm being honest
at first
he seemed like the rest;
witty and only there
for a good time.
i kept reminding myself
to act normal,
don't be weird,
paint yourself as a pretty party girl who is
laid back and
approachable.
cool,
confident;
i am none mentioned above.
the night drawled on and
several whispers of alcohol
skittered through the air and into throats
down hatches
into stomachs;
livers.
i recognized the throng of girls
behaving like airheaded clones,
paper cutouts of
any other female human;
approachable.
cool,
confident.
towards the end i had given up.
the boys were Too Cool.
i wasn't Cool enough.
i sat by an arcade machine that
probably costed a shit ton
and i twiddled a few buttons
then he came up to me
cockily asked me to play.
i smiled wistfully;
lips shielding the gaps
(hide your crooked teeth)
and bashfully guided us
to some generic fighting game
i was winning
(don't exclaim too enthusiastically)
and he was laughing
and i didn't look him in the eye.
i met him at a party.
and that's all that i thought had happened.
YOU ARE READING
poems they'll never see
Poesíai'm a pussy and these are words i didn't say because i was afraid i'd sound too smart. i also don't give a shit how this does in terms of "popularity" because this is simply another journal; just digital instead of paper and ink.
