Poetry

Why Am I Not Good Enough

One. Take a shower. You don't want to smell.
Two. Pick an outfit that will fit in with the latest trends and won't make you the laughingstock of the school more than you already are
Three. Put on some makeup so you can actually show your face in public and be a little bit pretty
You can't even recognize yourself and your face tinkles with an unbelievable issue you can't satisfy otherwise you will have ruined the hours of meticulous painting you applied to your hideous face
Four. Don't forget to style your hair in elegant curls. You can't let everyone at school see how your hair frizzes up like an electrocuted monkey. Naturally.
Five. Shove your fat feet into those toe pinching blood blistering Converse that everyone at school is wearing and you could not be the odd one out.
As you gaze into the bathroom mirror, you see a stranger that somehow stole your reflection and replaced it with a completely different girl. Every part of your outfit is uncomfortable. But even though you spent hours trying to look pretty, you will never be as good as those other girls at school. You are actually hiding back a few tears but you feel like you are holding back a tsunami of emotion. You can't let anyone else know what you feel, otherwise they will never respect you the same way they used to.
Or did they ever?
Why am I not good enough?
Beauty is pain.
Six. Get off the bus.
Seven. Find a group of people you can walk to class with because heaven knows you can't just walk alone. But you don't even like these people. They cuss and make dirty jokes a lot. And they laugh and make fun of you. You know you shouldn't hang out with them. But hey, they are the popular kids and you just want people to like you like they like them. You are in the sticks as people throw judging tomatoes and hating heads of lettuce at your insecure little head. You cannot stand up for yourself because you are alone, trapped, and defenseless. And you cannot stand up for yourself because these popular kids are like the royalty of the school and apparently, what they say and do, goes. You take each comment, each judgement, each assumption, each opinion, each strange look, each remark, each criticism, each review, each report, each assessment, and with it, your self-esteem plummets. Like a sinking ship.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Into the dark and dreary depths below. You look at all the other girls. Your mind racing a mile a minute. I wish I had her eyes. I wish I had her hair. I wish I was as skinny as her. I wish I had her perfectly straight, white teeth. I wish I had her social confidence. I wish as many boys liked me as they liked her.
Why am I not good enough?
Life isn't fair.
Eight. Get your work done. The only part of your life that seems solvable is the actual school work. You take pride in your work because it is possibly the only thing special about you. You do it to see the radiant smiles on your teachers' faces as they applaud your work. Their joyful praises is the gentle rain the brings forth a magnificent rainbow. The radiant sunshine that brings forth fields of sweet daisies. One of the only things that brings you happiness. But it is not popular to be smart. In fact, you are seen as a nerd. Too smart, human calculator, brainiac, geek, teacher's pet, suck up, whatever wonderful name you can think of. Your peers' jealousy is the pollution that prevents a rainbow. The bulldozer that plows through true fields of once golden daisies. The intangible object that crushes your happiness like a bug.
A's. Are getting you nothing but torment.
Why am I not good enough?
Just get over it.
Nine. It's the end of the day. Get ready for bed.
Ten. Undress. Get your pajamas on.
Wow, did I get after today?
Eleven. Undo your hair.
Wow, my hair looks like a mop.
Twelve. Wash off all of your make up.
I can't even look at myself.
This is my life. Everyday. I can't control it. I've been told I can't compare apples and oranges. I've been told I'm distorted. I've been told I have to be grateful for who I am. But going through your middle school years, you are on your own journey to find yourself on a small jet. And sometimes, you cannot control what happens to you. The turbulence will throw you off course. But, popular isn't always a good thing. You tell yourself, "I just want people to like me. I just want to be accepted." But skipping meals and marking up your wrist isn't going to fix that. You look at other girls wishing you were them. But other girls are looking at you, wishing they were you. Society infers, girls have to have skinny waists, tan skin, long, silky hair, perfectly straight teeth, big butts and etc. Society infers, girls have to wear tons of makeup to be pretty. Society infers, girls have to wear skanky clothing and do inappropriate things with boys to be happy and considered cool. But society is wrong. You are loved. You are precious. You are beautiful. You are talented. You are capable. You are deserving of respect. You can eat that meal. You are one in seven billion. And most all,
You are good enough.

Credits to a video on YouTube titled "Student's viral poem asks 'Why Am I Not Good Enough?'"