My Idol

On a marble pedestal,
she stood.
When I picked up my head from the ground,
I saw her
face
as she laughed
so beautifully and
I floated out of
my self-imposed prison
for a moment.
The beauty in ugly,
a light in dark,
a different face in the sea of same-
she was the girl
I so yearned to be.
Eventually
the pedestal collapsed.
She fell
as the rock crumbled.
I slowly saw the girl
behind the layers
of plaster smiles
and summer sweaters.
I found that my idol
was not made of pixie dust
and the marble of her pedestal
but of flesh and blood
yet somehow that made her
more beautiful
to me.





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