The red-lipped gab and shrill giggles of cat-eyed girls
the ones who spearhead this supposed committee of social niceties
the ones wearing sequined crowns and smiles laced with artificial sweetener
left me awkard, clumsy, sick—
I was sprawled in that game of 5 finger fillet again
I readied myself for point to pierce flesh
but I removed my hand from their dangerous game
I grabbed handfuls of the sequins, sparkles, buttons instead
and crafted a crown but didn’t wear it
(I didn’t want it)
I just held it and considered
how the heat of the glue gun melted the plastic easily
so easily
