In the Hallways of a Dollhouse

My mind moves to a million different places, all in one moment, and i imagine...

A time when i had to muster up the courage just to march to the front of the room for a tissue

A time when raising my hand meant allowing the hungry eyes of high-schoolers to eat all that was left of my courage

A time when fear of making mistakes overpowered desire to learn from them

A time when making myself more noticed was, in no way, a priority

Sometimes the school halls felt like those of my childhood dollhouse

Filled with the perfect-painted faces of pretty porcelain dolls that pose as real women

Proud to walk face pointed up because they seem to lack imperfections

Paper thin smiles looking down on people whose appearances are unpolished

As if their pretentious personalities placed them higher than those they deemed unpleasing to their patronizing eyes

The chiseled, counterfeit bodies of crafty, carnivorous boys who pose as real men

Congesting the crowded hallways in efforts to advertise their fake confidence

Crisp glares that coerce other boys to conceive themselves as less than, or secondary

Acting as if catcalling, callous talking, and creeping eyes over the uncensored curves of a young girl’s body

Are required to confirm their manhood

My mind moves to a million different places, all in one moment, and i imagine:

A time when i managed to stand up from my desk and march to the front of the room for a tissue

Not once fearing what the masked faces of my classmates were musing in their underdeveloped brains

I knew that just because they could dress up like men and women, didn’t mean they could earn the title of being one