You say
So many things
About my friends,
Behind their backs,
Yet in front of me.
Sometimes
I wonder,
What might you say
About me?
Do you say
I have bad bad breath?
Or that
I'm just a tad
Slow?
Or that
I am ugly?
You say things
That are
Rather mean
And I
Pretend
Not to notice.
But
It really bugs me.
It makes me wonder.
What about me?
Big bottom,
Pimple-faced,
Stinky,
Stupid?
What
About me?
Ornery,
Depressing,
Strange,
Dork,
Easy?
What about me?
You spread
So many rumors,
So many lies,
So many judgments,
So I thought,
Though I just might ask,
What
About me?
About the Creator
Rachel Prett
I'm a poet and a fiction writer. I can write quite decent essays, but I'd rather tell stories of the heart and speak with my whole soul.
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Do You See Me Now?
The light peeking through the lazily closed curtains shines onto his drowsy, heavy eyes acting as a rude alarm to awaken him from his drunken slumber. Sully turns to his side and is met with long blonde hair facing away from him. He can’t see her face so isn’t sure if she’s a new woman or one he’s been here before with. Almost designed by fate, the aggressive vibration of his phone beckons him.
By Shauna Mullena day ago in Fiction
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