Box of die

Sure she’s been called pretty before but it’s never felt quite right
The random girls at the mall in that one clothing store
Or by that older couple at the park
Part of her thinks it’s only pity since they only envy, the kids they never had

Her friends at school but that’s their job right?
They need to insure her that she’s pretty as a way for her to say it back
That one guy she’s still not over, yet she thinks she is
Her dad, sure but she’s his princesses

She stands there
Starring at her reflection never pleased with what she sees back
All the pretty girls have long blonde hair she thinks
Grabbing her phone she types the words bleach

Only seven dollars who knew so cheap
Maybe then she would finally be pretty
Not just called it by her friends or family
Not by those random people, she doesn’t care what they think

She cares what he thinks
What that one boy who stands there thinks
Clueless that a girl obsesses over him and just wants to be everything she can be
Not for herself but for him

After hours of convincing she buys that box of die
And finally texts that boy she likes
He thinks she’s weird
Doesn’t care about her hair and all that trouble she bared

She doesn’t even like the result it was all for him
That one boy who doesn’t even know her name
That’s when the girl sits in front of her mirror and cries
Sure she’s been called pretty but that’s not what she thinks

She looks back at that one box of die