They always say to write what you know

I don't know anything

About middle school

Or boys

Or girls, for that matter

I know about being lonely

Being picked on

"Please be kind to Amy, she needs a friend right now."

It would be so damn funny if you understood that I do need a friend

"What's wrong with you?"

I don't know, you tell me

Why is it that the girls who aren't smart enough for PA,

Who laugh when they do something strange

And make you out to be a weirdo if you the same

And who basically are no different from me

Either than the fact that everyone loves them

In books that we so adore

They call the populars mindless

They aren't.

They just don't want the world to know that they're actually smart

Because for some reason that's a terrible thing.

And for some reason because I'm not allowed to shave my legs

Or wear makeup

Or V-necks

And for some reason because I'm falt-chested and I'm not even a girl who thinks about guys.

Who dreams of the perfect guy

Who doesn't give a crap about all of this

Who can just go with the flow

Who can make me laugh

And won't complain about the unfairness of everything.


You don't have to like me.

I don't have to be popular.

I just want to understand.

What is it? That makes me alone?

And you, with your glittered eyes,

With your strained laugh

Short shorts,

And giggling, whispering manner

What is it that makes you different from me?

What is it that makes him love you,

And hate me?

Do you have to be born as an ever-smiling girl, with perfect hair that never gets messed up


(NEVER gets messed up.

I've been to a sleep over with one of your kind before. Her hair was freaking perfect after rolling around,

Wrestling, pillow fights AND sleeping,

and it was exactly the same.)


Do you have to go to Kindgerarten already in the mindset that your life goal is to date the hottest guy in school?

Do you have to be born giving a "I'm so cute and unique" look, already twirling your hair with your finger?


What is it that you want me to do?