I drowned in compliance
like I'd drown in an oversized sweater
let it envelop me
until all I could see were the rolling waves of
expectations
tossing me out to sea, unforgiving
as I bit my tongue, blood blooming in my mouth like a 
spring flower,
forcing my lips into a smile and saying I didn't feel it.
I wanted to be the highest rank
shiniest, prettiest, dripping in subtle glory
yet quiet, following the rules
never causing a stir
a reputation only for my smiles,
my better outfits,
my sense of humor.
My greatest achievement then was this verson of myself
I'd created from fitting into a mold
smoothing over my jagged edges with a smile
eyes glimmering like the necklace around my neck--
a dragonfly from two Christmases ago, but I'll
wear it like it's new.
My old parts, the rebellious parts
those pesky parts that just wouldn't fit in
were stuffed down deep into a bag
in the attic, gathering dust now.
I wanted everyone--
oh, but the popular ones most especially,
the ones who shine like sunlight and fairy dust,
the ones people love for their mascaraed eyelashes,
their easy smiles--
to see me as their equal, one and the same.
I could shine too, shimmer like fairy dust. 
I could run mascara over my eyelashes and pull
my lips into a smile
and finally be one of them.
I was concentrated on being this new self, this better self
and I didn't realize I was losing my old one, my real one
that I had been tossed out to sea, surrendered to the waves,
salt stuck in shiny hair, mascara running smoggy tears down my cheek.

Until one day, when 
the fragrance of days past carried through the breeze
when it was another beginning of another May
and I climbed up the stairs to the attic
to reclaim the parts of myself 
I left behind.