Nineteen

This is a poem I wrote at age 19. it’s not anything like taylor swift’s picturesque memories of her earlier years; this was the time in my life I struggled daily against the pull to allow my identity dissolve into the collegiate masses; join in, let loose, and let go of everything setting me apart. 

She laughs at jokes she doesn’t find funny
drinks this, smokes that, and smiles
living on her own she seems so grown up
but inside she’s malleable as a child

This shirt is a color that makes her sick
but she plays a Mannequin part so well
hair color’s not hers and makeup’s on loan
she’s falling apart but they’ll never tell

“i don’t know who i am” she cries
and watches the girl in the mirror bleed
wondering why she feels nothing-
that girl in the mirror isn’t me…

now breaking the glass to pieces
she doesn’t flinch at her shredded skin;
one question burns inside her brain
to which girl shall i give in?

be the one breaking the mirror apart,
asking questions too hard to fake;
or the be the girl who stared back at her-
wear pink, give in, and break