Perfect Girl

The perfect girl, with the perfect eyes, is sitting all alone.

The cafeteria has more kids than seats.

Yet the perfect girl is alone, at the crumb-encrusted table.

There are six other chairs.
All of them are empty.

Her eyes no longer search the room for a friendly face.

The perfect girl, who has the perfect face, is looking at the floor.

She lets her hair cover her features, because she doesn’t know.

Her father used to tell her she was perfect.

That was a long time ago.

That was before the divorce.

Her face will stay hidden.

 

The perfect girl, with the perfect smile, will not show her teeth.

In third grade someone pointed out that small gap in the front.

Now the most you’ll get is a tight-lipped smirk.

And only when she’s pretending that she actually got the raunchy joke.

The one cracked by some boy in history class.

Her lips remain sealed.

 

The perfect girl, who is the perfect weight, is sitting at the table.

She pushes her food around her plate.

Her mother, talking about work, does not notice.

The food falls to the floor, now it’s fair game for the dog.

The girl has not eaten in three days.

Her cheeks are sinking in.

 

The perfect girl, who is the perfect height, is trying on heels.

The current pair is six inches high and tomato red.

She looks like the model from that magazine wearing them.

She buys them, along with the tight jeans.  

She’ll throw out her old, comfy sweats when she gets home.

Her feet hurt.

 

The perfect girl, who loves baking, is smiling her tight-lipped smile.

She’s been invited to a party by one of the popular girls.

That boy with the green eyes is going to be there.

She’ll wear the strapless black dress.

It’s hidden in the back of her closet.

Her mother doesn’t know she bought it.

 

The perfect girl, with the 4.0 GPA, is holding a red plastic cup.

She’s not quite sure how it appeared in her hand.

The cheerleading squad surrounds her.

That pair of green eyes are watching her.

She smiles, it’s all cool, and takes a sip.

Her stomach churns.

 

The perfect girl, who once wanted to be a princess, is pressed against that boy.

She’s planning on marrying him one day.
He tells her she’s the most beautiful girl in the world.

He told a different girl the same thing last month

He’ll tell another girl the same thing next week.

Her mind doesn’t protest his wandering hands.

 

The perfect girl, is the past described as “always happy”, has been crying for hours.

Nothing means anything anymore.

She tries that thing she heard about on TV.

She uses the razor she nicked herself with earlier.

She is playing with death now, avoids him by a hair. 

Her sink turns the color of those heels.

 

The perfect girl, she could have gone to Harvard, is at another party.

Is it the 9^th, or maybe the 20^th?

There’s another boy here, and this one has blue eyes.

Is he the 5^th, or maybe the 17^th?

This one tells her she’s perfect and slips something into her hand.

Her body is addicted after just one.

 

The perfect girl, who could always make everyone laugh, is in the counselor’s office.

Her parents are there, and the principal.

She crosses her arms and glares at the ceiling.

Nothing matters anyway; the one with the brown eyes left her.

She wonders if there will be alcohol at Jessie’s tonight. 

Her mother is crying.

 

The perfect girl, who once held the world in the palm of her hand, is sitting alone.

She’s leaning against the wall in someone’s bathroom.

She has no idea whose house she’s in.
She’s unaware of her surroundings; the pill she took ensured that.

All she sees are bright colors and blurry shapes.

Her “friends” are taking videos.

 

The perfect girl is lying on satin, surrounded by flowers.

Her perfect features are on display for the world.

The scars on her arms and the bruises are covered with makeup.

As is the unnatural whiteness of her face; she has faded from this world.

She was absolutely perfect, from the instant she was born.

 

And she never knew. 

Reviews

[theladygraceling]

This is beautiful. The repetition and the short sentences help give emotion to the poem. It's very sad, deep, and very relatable. I know I have a few friends that have done similar things that this "perfect girl" has done. Amazing poem. This is well written, flows nicely, and had me hooked from the first stanza. Well done.

Edited on May 3-- I just reread this because I was thinking about it and how powerful it was the first time I read it and honestly, it is just as good this time around. The impact this poem has on me is impossible to put into words. It is so beautifully written. It really is just amazing. You have so much talent.

[Robert Parlange]

We've all known this girl. I like the repetition of “the perfect girl.” It ties the poem together. The inevitable ending is sad but all too common. As an educator, I learned long ago that we can't
“engineer” children. It always ends badly. Parents sometimes never understand that.