Kiera Varrese

GIRL

I can’t seem to girl very well.
I am a girl. But I can’t girl.
I’m into boys, but I can’t seem to girl.
A cute boy talks to me, and I definitely can’t seem to girl. I make weird faces.
My friends dress up pretty,
With short shorts and tight dresses,
Big lashes and “dramatic eyes”
Hair sitting perfectly
In all the right places
I’m in a T-shirt
Long and ill-fitting,
Jeans
Docs
A bare face
Nope. Can’t girl.
I’m at a sleepover, amidst female bodies,
Twisting and bending like elastic bands,
Talking about tampons and crushes and pop stars. They want to be pop stars.
Their eyes are sparkling in the night.
And mine are dim.
All they see are possibilities. Is it my fault I only see the uncertainties?
And while they girl into the night, the morning anew, and the days and nights ahead,
I stumble behind
And attempt to girl
The way I know how. ♦