Sometimes I wish I was
Lilac flowers bundled together with twine
White fluffy cardigan in a field of daisies
Reading Jane Austen with the gold lined porcelain tea set beside me
Or rather maybe sipping Earl Grey tea
Studying Thoreau in a dimly lit coffee shop
The smell of Vermont swirling around like dandelion wishes
A wool skirt around my waist, of fine quality and adequate size
Other times I wish I was
In a thousand polaroid pictures
Of frizzy hair, toothy smiles and arcade games
Drinking blue raspberry slushies in a prep school uniform
I would die to be in the studio
With the art of ancients between my fingers
And my apron covered in mud
Snacking on strawberries off of a platter
I want to live in a silver screen world
With pleated a-lines and a grace that even Kelly can’t afford
With a glass of champagne before midnight
With thoughts that don’t remind me of Sylvia Plath
But then I look in the mirror
And I see
a marshmallow girl,
taking up too much space,
with their judgment fused to her bones,
and know that she will never be all of these things.
For unless the divine intercedes
These will eternally be just a fat girl’s dreams
Aubrey Brolsma