I’m that girl:
coke-n-oreos-loving
typewriter-fanatic
crazy cat lady
wants pointe shoes only because she’s never had to wear them
that girl

still believes in fairies
runs around like a little kid
can’t cross the road alone
Mummy still dresses me because, yes, she has better fashion sense
that girl

sci-fi geek, coffee-guzzler
literary addict, tree-hugger
control freak, grammar nazi
book snob, because that book just sucks that’s why
that girl

squeals over good news
giggles over cute guys
kinda slow on the uptake
but quick with the comebacks . . . except, not really
that girl

the one your mother loved
and your ex-girlfriend hated
and you couldn’t figure out
but it’s okay because she couldn’t figure her out either
that girl

brave on the outside
shaking on the inside
sometimes it’s so lonely
will i ever be good enough? can you ever love
that girl?

writing this poem
reading this poem
liking this poem because i’m starting to realize that
this girl
is also

that girl.