I feel five manicured claws hit me across the face,
Uncertain laughter from onlookers,
I hear a final insult as they walk off across the yard.
It never happened and if I ever bring it up again,
Things get a lot worse than one slap and some swearing.
She sits up the front.
She destroys with words, preys on flaws,
Seemingly flawless herself, a monster glossed over,
Plated in perfection.
The teachers see her as pretty and smart, A+ grade every day.
We see the wrath of a monster.
When she wants us to.
She makes me want to die,
A fact she knows and loves.
She's going to kill me.
Or die trying.