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second best

by Emily G Myers

I want her to read that poem he wrote me. I want to personally hand her a copy. I want to flash it around in her face.

second best. second best. second best.

I want to be a total brat. I want to throw myself to the ground, scream and cry. I want to pound my fists down and whine, "not fair!"

secondbestsecondbestsecondbest.

ME ME ME. I want to run up to her and scream it into her face. MEMEME!

he he he

loved

me me me

and I gave it away. I'm special like that. I'm cool enough to rip open someone's chest and steal his heart. I'm pretty enough to do that.

me me me.

you're just

SECONDBESTSECONDBESTSECONDBEST.

but then I remember that I wasn't really his first choice. his dancer was.

she she she.

he loved her

not me.

I am not first best.

never was.

second best... second best... second best...

and what would I do if

shesheshe

came up to
me me me
and yelled

MEMEME

and reminded me that

I'm the one who's second best?

01/22/2004

Author's Note: my egotism sometimes, I swear. it needs to be put in check. and is... often.

Posted on 01/22/2004
Copyright © 2024 Emily G Myers

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