A Poem For E.M.
When I was in the eighth grade this boy liked me
I didn't like him
I liked the attention
I was coming out of my depression
and he was the first male person to mention my beauty
even if it was superficially... at first
I strung him along
never saying yes but never saying no
I didn't want him to stop wanting me
but I also didn't want him
I didn't trust him
I've never been a popular person
I get along with people but never make a commotion
I didn't believe someone of his social status could like someone of mine
I envisioned us being together and his love being blind
but his ears would not be
I imagined his friends and their opinions of me
How I wasn't cool, that I wasn't pretty
I never gave him a chance to prove me worng
in the fall of my freshmen year of high school
he tried of me playing ping pong with his emotions
and moved on to someone more suitable
but any time he saw me
I saw that eighth grade year old boy
who unlike his other immature classmates
realized that just because you're not popular doesn't mean you don't deserve love
who realized that a person's beauty cannot be defined by how many friends you have
or don't
he thought despite the fact that we didn't have the same friends
despite the fact that I was weird
that I was pretty
and worth something
he thought more of me than I thought of myself
I never thanked him for that