A longish poem-type thing I wrote a while ago about beauty and how it's not always visible in ordinary things (but that doesn't mean it isn't there).


1. she

she says 
that she's not like
other girls

her argument is
invalid because
girls are not like
other girls)

she sleeps with her
hair in plaits so that
it is wavy in the
morning but she'll
end up tying it back
anyway because tired
eyes are so used to the 
darkness that they 
cannot see the light in
her goofy smile as she
makes faces in the mirror
or the crimson blossoming
on her cheeks as she dances 
around the kitchen at 7am 

(the morning
does nothing to drain 
her energy. she feels 
more alive, actually. 
she always does.)

she wakes up at 6 but leaves
at 8 every morning and there
is always one missing from the
pile of teddy bears in the corner
of her room 

(piled up
high to hide
the dolls house
she's had since
she was nine)

and she'll give out
random compliments
and then feel bad about
it afterwards, because 
her words are always 
too abrupt, too
spontaneous, and she'll
find herself describing 
the simplest things in
such detail purely because
each word is a different colour
and she can't help but paint 
the picture in her mind 

(she's never
been very good
at art, she says
but can't she see
that there are other
ways of creating

she'll scroll through pixels 
and pixels of pretty girls on 
a screen until the images are
projected onto the backs of her
eyelids and she'll dream of 
perfect smiles and clear skies
and kisses before waking up
at 5am to find the sunlight
spreading across the floorboards
as early morning calls for her

(i wonder 
what the sun
would sound
like if it could 
talk, she thinks,
as she pulls back
the curtains and 
gazes out of the 

and she'll stand there for a
while, elbows resting on the
windowsill, wide eyes taking
in every shade of orange and 
pink and blue as the sun takes
its rightful place above the 
horizon and the glow of the
streetlamps evaporates to
nothing but shadows

(she'll climb 
back into bed after
that, and wait until 
the world around 
her wakes up)

she'll keep that moment to 
herself, the 5am half-awake
view of the sunrise, although
she has been taught to 
recognise the vast expanse of
the sky and she knows that 
someone, somewhere, was
sharing that moment without 
even realising it

(and maybe
she should keep
that in mind the 
next time she 
thinks of herself
as the odd one

and so she'll pretend to
fall asleep for an hour or
so before starting the day
as she always does, with the 
dancing and smiling and 
forcing of sleep-weary lips
into ridiculous expressions
as she stares at her reflection
whilst brushing her teeth

(it's a 
pity she doesn't
see the wonder
of those ordinary

those pretty girls on the 
screen? well, they're 
everywhere really
but she'll try not to
gaze for too long at the
bright green eyes of her 
partner in sports class 
or the girl with the 
dimples who sits beside 
her in maths and when
she mentions it they'll
both smile and exchange

for once she has
decided to let her 
hair down, although
she's spent the whole 
day worrying about
what the other girls 
might think)

and she'll lie in bed that 
night and let her mind
wonder until it is a 
kaleidoscope of doubts;
you see, she doubts that 
anyone will fall in love with
the chestnut-haired girl and
her brushstroke words, for
the scenes in her mind are
beyond what she knows of
anybody else 

one day she'll
realise that not-
knowing is not
a bad thing
at all)

and she doubts that
anyone will choose the
girl whose smile is a little
too big, her laugh a little
too loud, her head so
undeniably alive that it
wakes her up early every
morning, because why 
choose that girl when 
there are far better girls

(one day 
she will learn that 
everyone says they
don't believe in perfect,
when in fact that is 
because the only person
who isn't perfect, in their
eyes, is them)

(and if 
she can grasp the 
logic of those words,
she will realise 

(she is not 
perfect. not to her. 
but to somebody 
else? well, one day 
she might come
pretty close.)

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...