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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Teen · #2196378
a poem for my 12y/o self
fuck dignity
your twelve year old self wants to feel wanted
run as fast as you can to the first guy you see
because you’re pretty now
i’m pretty now
i’m so pretty that i cry when i eat
and beg my least favourite friend to call me hot while i sob
is it worth it?
is this what my twelve year old self wanted when she closed up her overbite and brushed her hair?
she thinks yes.
but she hasn’t cried over a pizza yet
and she hasn’t ever loved anything
and she is asleep and she’s full
sadness doesn’t make you interesting, char,
it just makes you sad.

© Copyright 2019 Charlie Carrol (charlesscarrol at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2196378-twelve