When I was five my mom taught me how to count to ten.
I liked the number ten
I thought that I could rule the world cause I knew how to count to ten.
I could play hide and seek now
I could make a hopscotch
I could be like my older sister
The number ten made me so happy.
When I was six I went to kindergarten
Counting to ten was baby stuff
But I still liked ten
My kindergarten teacher taught me that counting to ten ten times makes one hundred.
I cried to my mom when I got home
It seemed too complicated
So I kept counting to ten
Life was easier when only numbers one through ten existed.
When I was twelve there was a group of mean girls
Ten of them
I didn’t like the number ten
that much anymore.
Cause according to them it was
How much weight I needed to lose (10lbs)
How many of my friends hate me (10)
How high I would score on a test (10%)
I could always hear them coming
all their ten steps in sync
Walking in a V
They were a flock of birds
Getting ready to attack a poor penguin who couldn’t fly like them.
When I was sixteen all of the mean girls went to a different school.
I didn’t have to be with the ten anymore.
I had to be with myself
I lost 10 lbs
I have no friends now, turns out the ten friends I had really didn’t like me.
When I was sixteen boys would line up one through ten
One and two would make me cry
I told three and four that they were a waste of time, they would just hurt me
I gave five a chance
He broke me
The other five didn’t get to know me
Even though they tried
They could never really know me
The me who liked only the numbers one through ten.
The me who cries at night remembering the monsters
The me who hates myself
I fake it so well
I put up a wall
Ten bricks up
Ten bricks across
My second grade teacher would have asked me how many bricks I used
But it doesn’t really matter anymore
Cause behind that wall I’m self destructing
I wish I only had to count 1-10