Dear Girl with the Smiles
Dear Girl with the Smiles,
Girl with the smiles, the twinkling eyes, the saintly soul.
The girl with no ill will who shines too bright.
I’m sorry I hate you.
I’m sorry that to me your smile is false.
I’m more interested in people’s struggles.
Interested in the strife that makes the smile hard,
What lurks behind those eyes and keeps them open at night.
Do your cheekbones hurt from the permanent grin painted across your face?
I’ve always wondered that.
I do not see you as a round human being, a full person.
I see you as only a soft shell. Meek and eager.
This is my false perception of you. I know.
I’m sorry it exists.
I know your talent does not negate mine.
But I still hate you for yours.
I hate that I sit and suffer and brood while you dance in your own personal sunshine.
You have a spotlight designated, by the gods, only for you.
I think you’re a people-pleaser.
A Zooey-Deschanel clone.
I believe you will become a stale sunflower aching for its petals once more.
But I know for a fact you keep yourself watered.
That you find the sunlight,
Lean towards it,
And absorb the beauty around you
That you grow in the cracks of the sidewalk,
I have no reason to hate you. And yet I do.
I’m working on that.
Girl Who is Purging Her Hate