Now the mask was gone. She looked young and pretty…
As we walked we made plans…. We were ourselves again—
restless, scheming, poised for flight.

–TOBIAS WOLFF, This Boy's Life


The voices alI around me

The names I was called

The laughs and the giggles

Oh, how I heard it all


The parade of spit balls

The tripping and spitting

With me constantly wondering

What did I do so wrong?


What if I was simply pretty?

I wondered how that would change things

I was too hard on myself

I saw myself dying

But the worst part was

I didn't want any comforting


The nights of panic attacks

The nights of terror

Crying out to God

To make me feel better


Nothing was happening

I soon gave up trying

Till one night

When I finally stopped crying


The pain was so sharp

I just couldn't take it

Maybe I’d take a razor

And transform into a canvas

Covered with red paint


Soon realizing I just couldn't stop

I fell into a great darkness

Where my all sorrows had dropped

Bouncing off the walls constantly

Calling to me, haunting me


No one even noticed

I was just a happy young girl

Anxious to please

Willing to do anything


Little did they know

How badly I wanted to be pretty