It was a dreary Monday morning
The rain spitting, a month before prom
As I saw the note scrawled in red.
I didn't need to read it to know instantaneously it was from her.
Who else could it be?
I rolled my eyes and saw the hoard of maroon blazers cackling behind me
And there she was, the pretty perpetrator, polished puppeteer
Dangling the strings of popularity over them.
The embodiment of lipgloss lies glared at me
'You don't think you'll actually win,' snarled the scarlett smile
Sleek hair doesn't make up for a lack of substance, I thought, closing the navy door.
Throughout the following weeks all I saw were posters covering every hallway
All I heard in the corridors were mummers of prom
Whispers about dresses in the canteen, conversations about makeup between classes
But, adjusting my glasses, tidying my textbooks
I didn't care about any of that.
All anyone talked about for days on end were her pathetic promises
Only I saw through them.
It was as if in a puff of powder everyone loved her
The whole school bowed down to her, hanging off each empty word.
Was it just me who recalled the disaster she caused last time?
Entering form, laden with chemistry notes
My name was whipped around the room
Before the bell rang, I knew what they had all heard
None of it was true, but I knew who they'd been told it through.
When I gave my presentation the following afternoon
None of my friends came with posters as promised
But laughing at her manipulative handy-work, there she was.
As I spoke of my plans and hopes I could see them visibly disconnecting
All they were thinking was 'is it really true?'
'Probably is,' they must've concluded, since no one asked me about my policies.
Friday night, the sun was setting over the foreboding school gates
She pulled up in a magenta stretch limo, glittering in a garnet gown
The whole school was in awe as she strode purposefully into the hall through the wooden doors.
The fateful moment arrived, and the disappointing result was announced
I crumbled to the floor, the disco lights too bright, the future too dark
She came for blood, and left with mine trailing behind her
The crowd roared, as I watched on in anticipation and horror
Accepting her crown, the fake tinkly laughter screamed
'Didn't you see how this would end?'
And the homecoming sash read
'Isn't this what happened last year?'
As I dashed through hallways, desperate to leave
I heard a voice calling my name.
Returning, prom had been upheaved
Hundreds of voices shouting, none heard
And for once, she looked uncertain and anxious
Painted nails helplessly clutched the sash.
The truth transpired that the results were rigged
The election battered by bribery, democracy destroyed by desire.
I suppose when you're rich money gets you a long way
-But never the whole journey.
Malice marked her face as I took the throne of Homecoming Queen
Her masquerader's mask was removed as I placed the sash over my baby blue dress
And marched down from the stage in sapphire shoes.
So I became the 46th Homecoming Queen.
LD x ~ 24/8/20
YOU ARE READING
Loudspeaker
Poesía'... are my words enough?' Many themes and issues run through this collection, interwoven with each other, knitted between poems, so much so this is less of a collections of poems more of a continuous narrative. When I write, I'm constantly inspired...
