There is no party
No brain cell burning
No liquid courage spilling- jerking around in the palm.

There is no posse
No friends
No best friend- no late night talks about nothing , twisting wet hair around a finger.

There is no place for the teenager who wasn’t.

Life is hell for the teenager that wasn’t.

Choices are predetermined for the teenager who wasn’t.

No one wants the teenager who wasn’t.

No one understands why she wasn’t.

She doesn’t understand why she isn’t.

There is no gossiping
No note passing
No giggles- about the boy walking by, ax bathed.

She doesn’t understand why she has to be
The teenager that wasn’t.