February 27, 2008
By Andrea Hunt, Dubuque, IA

the room screams
screams with acceptance
screams with admiration
buries jealousy

her eyes sparkle
she glows
the light of all their good will
illuminates her features
eerily perfect
what you could never be
jealousy is the living dead
in your heart

there are no crowns
to bestow upon her
that would suffice
she’s a queen
the best there ever was

in the back room
she will explore chemicals
beauty will fade
her demeanor will vanish
with a hurried wet washcloth
and an eager flame
a terrifying creature
she has become
a zombie, she screams
screams with anguish

she can’t find sustenance
when raging in her veins
is hunger
she starves
you see this, only you
and it pains you

she’s a queen
she would be unaware
of the very existence
of the likes of you
but jealousy has died
and you saw the fresh dirt
on its resting place

only queens before her
have driven her
to her beloved position
in society
it isn’t as easy
as she makes it look

you won’t tell them
about the money she spent
to tame the beast
to drown out the pain
or the condemning scene
of her alone
in a hazy room

you won’t tell them
about the monster
underneath the maybelline

in your resentment
you won’t help her
but you won’t tell

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!