When you first spoke to me,
did I seem awkward to you? I might have
looked mean to you,
or I might have appeared to be one of those “weird loner kids”
with their heads down and is always alone.
But still you approached
me, and I began to let off my
weirdness and then you saw my first impression.

At first glance, you’d think
I’m beautiful, or average, or ugly.
Take your pick.
You may have even thought that I’m
a confident girl who can get anyone she pleases to
stay by her side.
And with a smile, I’d
ask you one question:

“You’re kidding, right?”

Truly, who would actually give me
a chance past a single
glance from across the room, hallway or wherever?
Who’d really befriend a
pariah like me?
Who would really care about me and
love me from the bottom of
their heart for
all of eternity?
That’s like a sick joke in of itself.

Though, I just want you to
give me a first glance.
And a second, and a third,
and many other glances too. In fact, I’d love
for you to gaze in my eyes as
our fingers interlock and our lips meet.
I’d love for you to hold me whenever I cry or smile or just
need that comfort.
I just want someone to show me that
they’d do that for me.

But all of my desires are seemingly crushed
like they were nothing--even as I
continue to try to make my fantasies
become my reality.