On the Outside
She is messy, unorganized
Her clothes don’t fit
And they never look right.
She hardly ever wears make-up
Unless she’s feeling especially unattractive.
She likes to play with action figures
Children’s toys
She climbs trees
Bites her nails
Her shoes are worn out
Her hair’s too long
With split ends
She walks into screen doors
Forgets what she’s looking for
She picks her nose
And flicks her boogers
She rarely brushes her teeth
Let alone floss
Yet she has a boyfriend.
I don’t understand that.
But on the Inside
She shuns her evil thoughts
Even though they are her own
She feels that reading a book
Is like drinking sweet sun tea
As the smooth words
Trickle down her digestive track
Towards comprehension
She notices things that others don’t
Wants to be different
Wants to be liked
Wants people to know how special she is
Without being recognized.
She fears the future
Relishes the present
And hardly remembers the past.
She hates the idea of the world
Turning into computer screens.
She misses the time when people were nomadic.
She never had a hero
Because she always discovered
They were real people.