A Black Lace Pencil Skirt and A White Blouse

A Poem by T.

College, Life, and Pressure

The time I was wearing a black lace pencil skirt and a white blouse was the time I was suffering from a seemingly endless sickness. Most people wouldn’t have called it sickness, but I did. It was named confusion, puzzlement. “What do you want from me?”

The time I was wearing a black lace pencil skirt and a white blouse was the time I had an epiphany. That time was when I realized that I wasn’t meant for the role I was supposed to be playing. “This is not for me. This isn’t me.”

The time I was wearing a black lace pencil skirt and a white blouse was the time I knew I would disappoint my old lady again. She would never be proud as long as I was there. She was kind, but with a vein of negativity and aristocracy. That was also time I knew she would disappoint me again as well. “Let me be. Stop directing me.”

The time I was wearing a black lace pencil skirt and a white blouse was the time I accepted that fact that everything was far from over. There were more to come, and I was so sick of it all. “Save me. Rescue me.”