September 4, 2016
By Anonymous

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Pretty girl, rosy cheeks, Colgate smile.
Pretty girl who?
Pretty girl who swiftly shuts the door behind her,
hoping that none of the ghosts she dropped off will follow.
Pretty Penny who shuts the bathroom door
and allows the salty shower water to wash away
the coal and the picked scabs.
Perfect Penny who came right out of the box with tag and everything
for someone to cut her hair, draw on her skin, play dress up.
Poor perfect pretty penny.

Chin up, doll.
Close the door when you leave.

The author's comments:

When tasked with writing confession poetry in my Creative Writing class, I felt like a deer in the highlights for a few momets. However, I came to the realization that no one has a blank slate when coming to secrets; there's no one who does not have something suppressed in the deepest layers of skin, and hopes to never have to cut into them to bring the pain out. There is no shame on having negative feelings, and the bads days are a part of life just as much as the good ones.

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