Marchell Dyon

See the girl who aches to be asked to dance, she is me, and I am her.
I remember a spring fling once.

I remember being that girl the classic cliché.
Not a parent chaperone greeting everyone with a smile that looks confident.

I remember hoping if asked that I would have magically gained feet of grace
Like a modern day Ginger Rogers not the only girl left to the sidelines

Pretending to enjoy myself.
From a distance I watched heartbroken as the boy I loved

Danced so close with the girl I hated
Her cheeks like candy apples her face turned to the crowd glowing ear to ear.

In a dream under the dimmest candlelight he took my hand
He leads me through a sea of icy stares

Finally rescued from the wallpaper let them all envy me the wallflower
All because he took my hand.

We would dance all night Cinderella and her eighth grade prince
Without the policies of midnight to interfere

Like the couple in a snow globe we will be
Our eternal silhouette forever picturesque knowing nothing of place or time.

I see her in me and I want to shake back to life
Right out from under the role as the wall flower

I want more to take her hand and lead her to the dance floor
I want to applaud her in all her awkwardness

I want to but I don’t.
I pretend not to see her fade into the wallpaper

Like everyone else I am stuck in a role created for me
As I smile at faces and refill paper cups with punch.