Fri, 04/29/2016 - 07:34 -- Just Is


At first she was No.

Now, No was beautiful

And no I’m not talking about that porcelain skin, straight hair thigh gap beautiful.


No was beautiful.

She was herself, and she loved it.

People called her conceited

Their remarks, kryptonite to the hearts we all wore on our sleeves, but hers

Because she was Batman

Always one step ahead

Knowing the difference between selfishness and self respect,

While still looking good.

You see No, was the type of girl everyone publicly hated

but secretly wanted to be

No, was that weirdly odd kid who always sat at the front but spoke the loudest.

No, was always picked last,

but didn’t mind

because they all knew that she was the best at defense

No, was different.

Often seen as an offense

No had to constantly speak her mind, all the time, as if on rewind

because people didn’t like her.

Their disgust only concealing their deeper fear of her.


So one day they trapped her, tried to control her, reform her

She tried to fight back but she was always sent back

to the corner of the room and was told to get over it

As if being herself was just a phase that all kids go through and that she will

eventually overcome,

A setback, minor mishap in her life, a play in which she had never got the script for

but little did they know

That people never really get over things, they just become better at hiding them.


It was only the second week

and No had already learned to tame her tongue

Her wide eyes and opened palms

Now succumbed  to the floor of broken dreams and pockets torn at the seams

Because your not pretty enough -she was told

Because It’s about time you changed- she was told

Because no one, will ever like a No.


The girl that now sits on No’s desk now bombards her ears to death metal, punk

The girl that now sits on No’s desk now tattoos her lips with teeth

The girl that now sits on No’s desk now goes by the name of Yes.

And oh, how people love Yes.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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