Picture of a Buttercup Flower, From a Google Search
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
She says as I come in crying
“Suck it up, buttercup, the boys never play nice.”
She says as I experience
Boys
Pulling my
Hair
Snapping my
Bra strap
Pushing me
Down to the ground
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
A boy saying my name while they
Pin me down
It sounds foreign to me now
That isn’t me
Don’t call me Jessica
That name is like the sound of
Pots and pans
Clattering
A cacophony
Call me Jess
Because when the right person
Calls me by that name
My heart leaps through
Fields of flowers along with
The deer
And the mighty lion
Who recognizes the sound of
Jess
Fierce, roaring, and ready to fight against
All of the times
That I could only think
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
Like
Share
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.