POEM STARTER
Submitted by Cassandra Elliot š¹
Write a poem or short story that embodies the feeling of being chosen last.
Last pick
Journal Entry ā November 17th
iām not anyoneās first pick, i think. not even my friends. not even my familyās first choice
Itās not something people ever say out loud, not in the way that matters. But you can feel it in the pauses, in the way eyes search a room and pass you over. Like theyāre scanning for someone better someone more fun.. more enjoyable, less.. me
I used to think it was just in my head. That maybe I was paranoid, or insecure, or reading into things too much. But you can only be the afterthought so many times before you realize itās not imagination. Itās reality
At school, they picked teams for gym today. Again. I stood at the back, hands stuffed in my pockets, pretending to not care. Pretending like I didnāt already know how it would end. They called name after name, laughter echoing, sneakers squeaking, and then.. finally. just me.. alone. One team sighed. Not even trying to hide it
It stings, in this slow, dull way. Not like a slap.. sharper. things fade faster. This is more like a splinter deep in the skin. hard to find, impossible to ignore. It builds over time, until everything you do feels like proof that they were right to pick someone else
Even at home, itās there. My brother gets the proud smiles. My sisterās jokes are the ones they remember. I speak, and itās as if no one hears me until someone else repeats what I said. Then suddenly itās worth listening to. Maybe my voice is just invisible
I donāt think anyone means to hurt me. I really donāt. I think they just⦠forget to include me. Forget to see me. Like Iām wallpaper, always there, easily ignored unless it starts to peel.
I wonder sometimes if I vanished, how long it would take for someone to notice. A day? A week? Would they look at my empty chair and remember my name? Or would it just be quieter.. easier?