This is not who I really am. I don’t wear a blue cotton dress. I don’t stand up
straight, stiff like that jacket and tie.

I am not myself to look this way.

I watch TV. I drink Miller Light from cans. Go ahead: tally each hollow note
in silence. Tell me I’m lazy. And lipstick makes me look cheap.

I’ll say nothing you say is true.

It’s true. Every night I pretend to be the girl in the corner at parties, the one whose
wide eyes are full of prayers.

Pretend you can see through me right away. Pretend you don’t notice I am there.

©2008 Dr. Lacy M. Johnson All Rights Reserved.