My People

A Poem by katemine

This was a writing assignment in my English 12 class. But I would really like to get some serious advice about it.

My people

For the shy girls Hiding their faces,
In so many different ways.
But when they're given the chance,
They capture memories,
lock in stories
And keep them squared away in a book somewhere
With drip drops of liquid mixing together,
To make a bloody tear stained puddle
As they hide their body's
Saying that they're just cold
Or it's only a fashion thing.

For even in the middle of the summer,
When you think that putting away long sleeved shirts would
Be a smart thing to do, the shy girls don't tell you
That the sweat drips down their arms,
Sneaking into the red rivers cut apon the surface
Stings...

Makes them feel alive...
The only way they know...
If they are still real...
They...WE... Act out to be noticed
But we are see through
WE scream in a crowded room…
And when everyone looks,
WE crawl back into our shells.
Afraid of what everyone would say…

About the way we look…
The scars…
The vodka on our breaths…
The drugs in our system…
We think the world can see everything
see all our secrets
uncover all our pain…
just by looking us in the eye…

So why would we chance it?

We don’t.
Because… They are…
We are…
I am…
A shy girl.