In the elementary school carnival, I had my eyes on the cupcakes.
The white frosting on some and green on others.
They all had sprinkles to entice me to pay good money.
They were regarded as the big prize as did every other student.
I won small plastic prizes or tiny rubber monsters I put on my fingers.
I wasn't able to eat them.
When I became a bookworm in middle school, I focused on a boy.
He would never look at me the way he looked at her.
The gym beauty with non-permed hair like myself and a crooked smile.
There was no one to blame but my lack of popularity.
When I roamed the halls of high school, I no longer thought of the cupcakes.
The chance of winning anything had passed me by.
I learned how to ignore the mental assaults from deep within.
I turned it outward and felt sorry for those who tried too hard.
In the college and university learning freak show, I wanted to fit in.
Most people took it in stride but some did not and it hurt.
There was no chance of biting into any normal looking cupcake.
I had the one with the melted frosting.
Since the beginning to the end of all school years, I had a different reality.
One where I needed restraint and didn't always have it.
I excelled in the areas with little promise.
Winning those six cupcakes wouldn't have changed my trajectory.
In the elementary school carnival, those six cupcakes never had power I once thought.
Years of experiencing reality taught me to accept loss, both of the mouth and hands.
I would've given anything to have those cupcakes long ago.
It would've made my life sweeter for sure but at what cost.