February 23, 2010

I was supposed to be the perfect child

I wasn't

I was supposed to be in advanced classes

I wasn't

I was supposed to be on the honor roll

I wasn't

I was supposed to excel in math and science

I didn't

I was supposed to be all the teacher's favorite

I wasn't

I was supposed to be the perfect student

I wasn't

I was supposed to be the child they dreamed of

I wasn't

O_o

Dad says

One day

Everything will click

He knows it won't

He's just clinging to the last strand of hope

Mom's given up

She just glares at me

I tell myself

I don't mind

That my parents don't love me

Like parents should

I pretend the awkward silence at the dinner table

Doesn't hurt

But it does

O_o

All I want

Is someone to love me

Like me

For who I am

At school

They call me a freak

I don't belong

I don't fit in

At lunch

I sit at the empty table

Back of the cafeteria

I listen to my music

Before the lunch supervisors

Take my music away

O_o

Were I'm from

Being me is not accepted

Not allowed

Then why am I like this?

Why am I me

When I'm supposed to be

The perfect child

They always dreamed of?

O_o

They're mean to me at school

Freak Jenny laughs

I don't flinch

I show no emotion

Jenny narrows her eyes

What are you doing here?

You don't belong

She turns and walks away

I look down

You're right

I whisper

I don't belong

I never will

O_o

February 24, 2010

Every day I write in my journal

Because Ms. Rachel tells me to

And Ms. Rachel believes in me

So I write

O_o

Everyday

That I can

I pour my soul out

Ms. Rachel

She's supposed to read them

The entries

But I asked her not to read mine

She just checks

To make sure I write

So I write

My writing is different

Then the other students'

Theirs is choppy

And uneven

My writing is smooth

Like water

And soft

Like snow

I ask Ms. Rachel about this

She asks if she can read something

I show her a paragraph of writing

She smiles

Poetry

You write poetry

I laugh

I can't write poetry!

I don't know how

Ms. Rachel looks back at my paper

No Elizabeth, this is poetry

I don't know what to say

But…I mean…

How can I write poetry…

Without meaning to?

Ms. Rachel smiles at me

You're a natural poet

O_o

I stare into Ms. Rachel's eyes

They're hazel

They speak truth

They believe they speak truth

But I don't believe them

I look away

You'll understand eventually

Ms. Rachel says

I suppose it is poetry

I write

But not good poetry

I doubt its good poetry

I'm not good at anything

One of your…uh…Charms

Chris W. would say

What charms?

I ask

Kelli rolls her eyes

That's the point

She says

Like it's obvious

What point?

Because I don't know

What she means

Everyone laughs

I show no emotion

I pretend

I don't hear them

I tell myself I don't care

It doesn't hurt

But it does

It always will

O_o

February 25, 2010

You can read this one Ms. Rachel

O_o

My parents insist I take classes

Outside classes

Like robotics

Like programming

Like Saturday algebra

Like musical theater

Like piano

Like band

Like voice

They claim

I get to choose

The classes I take

But I don't get to choose

If I got to choose

I'd take theater

And voice

And I'd still take piano

O_o

When I was younger

My parents signed me up

For piano lessons

They got movers

To haul our little upright piano

To our living room

And I learned to play piano

I loved piano

I practiced more

Then I write in my journal

I had talent

At least I thought I did

Because my parents stopped taking me

To piano lessons

And they got movers

To haul our little piano

Back up

To its little corner

In the attic

And my parents

Signed me up for extra math lessons

And science lessons

And technology lessons

Nothing understandable

Nothing light hearted

Nothing fun

O_o

I go up to the attic

When no one's home

And I play the little

Upright piano

I play out my heart

My soul

My worries

My problems

Everything's okay

For a few minutes

But then I hear the door being opened

And I shut the piano lid

And run downstairs

Before any questions are asked

They never say

But I don't think I'm allowed to play

The little abandoned upright piano

It's my piano

The first I played on

Of course I will play

I will always play

O_o

Ms. Rachel? I'm going to Europe on Sunday. Could I take my journal to write in? It would mean a lot.

O_o

February 26, 2010

Elizabeth, of course you can take your journal. Thank you for asking. Where in Europe are you going? You must be very excited. Remember to bring back pictures and souvenirs to show us. I'm sure everyone in the class will be excited to hear about your trip. Have Fun

-Ms. Rachel

O_o

YOU CAN't READ THIS MS. RACHEL!

O_o

But you're wrong Ms. Rachel

I'm not excited

I don't want to bring back pictures

And souvenirs

No one in the class will be excited

To hear about my trip

Because they don't care

About me

They wouldn't care

If I died

I'm not planning on having fun

I don't want to have fun

I'm sorry

But I'm not

I'm going to Greece

-Elizabeth April