I will wake up
Bright and early
On the first Monday of school
And I will
Slip on a white sweater
Step into a skirt
And curl my hair
Inwards, not out
And I will leave the house
I will walk up the stairwell
The click of my flats on the floor
Muffled by the click of everyone else's flats
And the clack of the boy's running shoes
And I will talk with my best friend
In front of home room
Pulling my sweater over my fingers
My peach-pink nails
And holding my binder to my chest
And the loudspeaker will say
"Basketball tomorrow"
And she will compliment my hair
And I will compliment hers
And then
That Girl
Will walk down the hall
And all of us as a whole
Will stop what we're doing
And watch her
The way her ripped jeans hug her skin
And her long hair flies behind her
And her leather combat boots move
And we will all be standing
In awe
Wishing to be her
I will wake up
A bit early
On the second Tuesday of school
And I will
Squeeze on my ripped jeans
And straighten my hair
And apply black polish
Slow, not fast
And I will leave the house
I will walk up the stairwell
The click of my boots on the floor
Muffled by the click of everyone else's boots
And the clack of the boy's basketball shoes
And I will talk with my best friend
In front of home room
Flipping my hair
And holding my binder to my side
And the loudspeaker will say
"Football tomorrow"
And she will compliment my nails
And I will compliment hers
And then
That Girl
Will sashay down the hall
And all of us as a whole
Will stop what we're doing
And watch her
The way her perfect bun bobs
And her winged eyeliner flutters with her eyes
And her jean jacket glides
And her heels move with the world
And we will all be standing
In awe
Wishing to be her
I will wake up
Late
On the third Wednesday of school
And I will
Put my hair in a bun
Seven times
But it will
Not be perfect enough
So I will give up
And I will hunt through the closet
For the jean jacket I bought
And run out of time
And throw on my high heels
And leave the house
I will run up the stairwell
The click of my high heels
Echoing through the empty hall
Because I am late
And I will twist my ankle in my rush
And I will fall
And bash my knee off the cement
And I will cry
My eyeliner running down my face
And I will not talk with my best friend
Because she will snicker at my outfit
In front of home room
And I will hold the tears back
And clench my binder with white knuckles
And ignore the loudspeaker
And ignore That Girl
As she sashays down the hallway
And realize that it doesn't even matter
And I will not stand in awe
And simply wish to be myself
Whoever that is
I will wake up
Right on time
On the fourth Thurday of school
And I will
Choose my own outfit
A big sweater and leggings
With thick socks and boots
And I will not do anything to my hair
Or my nails
Or my face
And I will leave the house
I will walk up the stairwell
The shuffle of my big boots
Drowning out the sounds of clicking
And clacking
And I will walk straight down the hall
And they will stop and stare
In awe
Wishing to be me
And I will smile to myself
Because I finally understand
