The art of the dance.

Surrounded by familiar faces,

Biting my tongue with such patience,

They disguise their disdain,

while I disguise my pain.

Fake smiles in every corner of my eye,

constant exasperated sighs.

Neither of us understands each other’s world,

but they make me feel so small, like a little girl.

Going straight back to the playground,

Watching the girl’s on the merry-go-round

“You’re cooler than me”

I thought then,

I think now.

There goes the girl with faded jeans straight from a trailer,

they only let her in, because it would be discrimination to fail her.

You can be smart, but you are still not a part.

Your scarred, childhood demeanor still shows through.

Your eloquent tongue accidentally silences,

and the fight for survival begins.

How do you calm the lion that still roars with anger from within?

Still holding onto hope, fighting desperately to win.

Every obstacle that has been triumphed thus far,

to be singularly smashed

with one glimpse of the past

exposing enough to be debarred.

You did it again, you’re supposed to hide that part.

You can not succeed in their world until you remember their art.

Fake smiles and passive-aggressive glances are your best chance,

to win their dance.

Stop the aggressive honesty,

you are a woman,

it is not welcomed, please act accordingly.

✌Gia Marie 2017 ©