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Gifted
May 7, 2024
Gifted.
That's a compliment, isn't it?
She’s gifted,
She’s special,
Books filling her bag, ink staining her fingertips.
Because she was going places.
Because she loved it.
Because what else did she have.
She was tame.
“A pleasure to have in class.”
She fought for
Every gold star
Every A+,
Every shiny sticker.
Every smile,
Every praise,
Every moment that meant this was worth something -
This bone-deep loneliness.
I don’t miss that girl.
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This is about the experience of feeling valued only for perceived skill, or intelligence. Pushing yourself to get the good grades and the acceptance, and having to make it seem effortless, because if even school is hard, what do you have? I hope for this poem to evoke both that experience, and the experience of healing, and realizing you are not that person anymore.