OH Sweet Dear Pubescent Me

What it is like
to have someone else
feel your heart beat?

What is it like
to have someone
want to hear your
heart speak?

I wouldn't know, so don't ask.
But they ask anyway,
"What should I do about
this one, who I like, I love
screwed up; said something wrong
fix it, please!?"
My responses are words of studied wisdom,
  but inside I'm thinking:
  "HOW WOULD I KNOW?"

Grew up in the Bible belt,
where some were heart felt,
but mostly a rare species.
I am not one judge a heart,
but it isn't hard to see their heart
when they are judging me.

Southern world + teenage girl =(must)= Debutante
"So, are you dating?" - No

Then there must be something wrong with me, right?
They talked to me, looked me in the eyes
attempting to see the soul,
then eyes wondered down, and around; all over me.
Judgement of Physical Appearance Mental Analysis Result:
"Hmmm, a bit thick around the middle, pale, glasses,
thick brows, small mouth, deeper voice ..... I think I see."

Oh sweet, dear, pubescent me.
  
Now you may be thinking,
"Great,
another fat girl
talkin' 'bout how
she ain't gettin any."

NOOO!!!

Don't you pull me down to your level!
I'm not defined by your desire for action!
I don't fight like that!
In fact I don't fight.

Not with words from trash bins
or knuckles bloody beat.
I push, push people to look
inside themselves and see the source
of the stench that is reeking off them.
I make them, break them down
just like I would myself.
I am my harshest critic so
I know what it is like not to be loved.
But I have grown on myself and learned I have been made to be kinda cool
and I have learned to love who I am
because I, my, me, is a nation,
and without support of each part, it would fall
like the Romans,
inside because of out.