Lamb to the Slaughter

Once I

Liked a boy

Who,

I thought,

Liked me back.

I told my

Friends and they

Were.

I enjoyed

What I thought

Might be there.

And I

Think that,

Maybe he did too.

Then my pretty friend said;

 That she,

Liked a boy

She thought,

Liked her back.

And I

Watched them

Speak

And smile

And I

Hated myself

For not,

Being my

Pretty

Friend.

Then my talented friend said;

That she,

Liked a boy

She thought,

Liked her back.

And I

Understood

What

Complex  

Meant

For the first time.

And I

Despised myself

For not,

Being my,

Talented

Friend.

Then I

Decided that

I would

Be happier if I

Didn’t like a boy,

Who,

I thought,

Would never like me back.

So I;

Wrote some songs

Cried a lot

Wrote lists

Listened to jazz

Wrote poems

Wrote words

Ate too much of everything

And gave it back

To the porcelin god.

Then I;

Dried my hair

Put on mascara,

Lipstick,

And rouge.

And I tried to forget

All about

A boy

Who,

I thought,

Had once liked me.

And

My

Friends 

Weren’t.

They had

Everything,

Yet they

Took my lamb,

My hope

My innocence

To

The

Slaughter.