You know me,
the girl in the back of the class
who has all the answers
to all the questions
but who can’t seem to get the professor’s attention
and who doesn’t think she is pretty enough, or good enough
to get yours.

You know me,
the girl who looks awkward in a skirt
but right at home in men’s jeans
who has a mom that says
‘why can’t you get all As and dress like a girl and marry a lawyer?’

You know me,
the girl standing by the bar
laughing too loudly
just trying to get her three dollars worth of beer
that tastes like shit anyways.
Courage that doesn’t go down easy.

You know me,
but not the real me.
Not the me that has crazy thoughts
and dangerous dreams
of faraway places and crystalline waters
chasing billowing sails.
Who sees you in tattered dreams
faded and soft around the edges of a memory
long erased
while I try to study for psychology
as the Beatles sing about Kaleidoscope Eyes and Cornflakes

Ya, you know me…