The mistake girl is in the corner,
Facing the wall,
Counting how many cracks are in the cheap,
Trying desperately and
Failing to block out her mother’s voice.
Setting a price.
The mistake girl is in the hallway,
Frizzy hair confined under a pair of headphones.
The music understands her,
Or hate her.
It blocks out the sound of her mother’s job.
The tattered notebook is her savior,
Bitten at the edges,
A feast for the rats,
Pregnant with too many papers.
Full of truths,
Which makes life bearable
The mistake girl is in the basketball court,
Sitting on the bleachers,
With her constant companions,
The tattered notebook,
And the headphones.
A high schooler comes up,
The insults fall on,
Only filled with sweet music,
Not the dirt of the streets.
The mistake girl is crying in the hallway,
With the remains of her savior,
Cradled in her hands,
Mourning her loss,
With her mother.
Holding her hand
Being there while her daughter’s world
is crashing down around her
The mistake girl is in school,
Being picked on.
A new notebook clutched closely.
The mistake girl is in her world,
Where people are kind,
And look up to her.
They don’t rip up her notebook,
Or push her down to the unforgiving ground.
She is protected from the world.
The real world,