From Z, To A

At your school all the Ambers were
Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and unbelievably
Cute. The American
Dream embodied in a body. A slice of pie for the
Eye.
Forget your faith. Here, there are only
Gates made of cheap plastic,
Hardly strong enough to keep the
‘I’ out of ‘I Am.” And then you shed your clothes,
Jumped from some great water fall, trying to
Kill your old self that
Lonely
Morning of teenage regret for
Never being seen by the one you want. You carried your
Old Self
Plus the New Self, un-
Questioning, with you.
Remember those hot, plastic red benches? The
Sycamore outside the window of your Freshman Spanish class?
Today is a day
Unlike the others, today you have
Vowed,
Willfully to plummet. Signed,
XOXO
Yours truly,
Z.

                                                                                                    --Liz Dosta

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