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Maybe if my hair was straight, long and blonde,
You’d notice me.
Maybe if my skin was tanned coffee and eyes bright blue,
You’d talk to me.
Maybe if my waist was cinched and thin,
You’d want to hug me.
Maybe if my nails were acrylic, my hands warm,
You’d want to hold them.
Maybe if my lips were smooth and unchapped,
You’d want to kiss me.
Maybe if my personality was shallow, with no substance,
You’d want to get to know me.
Maybe if my mind were empty, with failing grades to prove it,
You’d want to sit by me in class.
Maybe if I had money and a fast car,
You’d invite me to that party.
Maybe if I could grind my hips to the beat,
You’d want to dance with me.
Maybe if I wore Hollister and Abercrombie,
You’d want to see what lay beneath those threads.
Maybe if I weren’t myself,
You’d love me.




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