Spectacular
I am nothing spectacular
My breasts are small and my face is plain
And perhaps I am what they say I am-
Just the sum of all my quiet whispers
My excuse me's and thank you's
And "yes, I stayed that late at the library", replies
But behind closed doors I will drown myself in a novel
I will write until my eyes get too blurry for me to see the words
until my head grows dull
And if the world ended tonight
Believe me
I wouldn't regret a single word
I am unspectacular
To the masses
To every waisted breath that questions my use of time
And perhaps it's a complement when a world of cruelty
and a population lacking in artistic beauty
questions my ability to simply fit in