( one )
the people in our first grade class nickname her honey and she giggles sick and sweet. they call her dandelion and i listen to her make wishes far into the darkness of night. they call her stardust and i begin to notice how she only shines when the lights are down and no one can see the smile on her face, or how it wasn't really real. they call her beautiful and they call her pretty and she is suddenly THE GIRL WHO WAS OKAY.
( two )
they call her cherry blossom and i am the only one who stops gawking at the beauty to notice shes already crumbling away. her father says she's his babygirl and yet i am the only one holding her while she cries at night. she is lovely and she is gorgeous AND SHE IS THE GIRL WHO WAS OKAY.
( three )
in high school the boys call her hot and i watch her eyes grow weary and cold and her mind start to burn away. as we walk home from school the construction men call her sugar and she smiles and turns away and i am the only one who knows the taste in her mouth is anything but sweet. and the boy she likes calls her art and yet she comes to my house in the middle of the night because it hurt when he pinned her to a wall. and i hold her and i rub her back and she tells me shes okay ( even it is a lie ) because she is beautiful and she is pretty AND SHE IS THE GIRL WHO WAS OKAY.
( four )
they call her pretty things and yet they are still hungry. they want a taste of her honey, a wish or two from her dandelion, they say they want to see stardust and they tear her in two. she looks at me across my bedroom as if she is miles and miles away and i want to hold on to her and yet i know she's already gone. she tells me she's alright, though i know somewhere deep down that she is not. because she is gorgeous and she is hot and she's her father's babydoll, AND SHE IS THE GIRL WHO WAS OKAY.
( five )
they say that she is angel now and that she's somewhere in heaven, where she belongs. I want to scream at them because I know she has been six feet under this whole time. they called her nice things because she was supposed to be a nice girl, and i look at her headstone and i'm surprised it doesn't read
THE GIRL WHO WAS OKAY.
I LOVED HER AND SHE WAS OKAY EXCEPT SHE WAS NOT. SHE WAS NOT OKAY. SHE WAS NEVER OKAY.
( dedicated to my best friend morgan, and my lovely platonic muse savannah sanders. for being the best ever, and for keeping me afloat. )
YOU ARE READING
nevermind + poetry.
詩歌in which i write poems about love and growing up and everything that comes in between
