Off with Her Head

Sometimes I feel

everyone watching me

so intently

I forget how to walk naturally

across the vast stage that is

the school cafeteria.

According to the psychology class notes

in Mother’s voice,

it’s just my “invisible audience”

most adolescents share.

Theoretically,

we’re all

too worried about ourselves

to watch each other that closely,

but it sure feels like I’m

on constant display.

Those imagined spectators

materialize into actual stares

from all corners of the lunchroom

as the most popular girl in school

approaches.

Release the ceremonial doves.

Summoned before teen royalty,

under the echoing clatter of sporks, I can

practically hear the murmurs and gasps.

She asks me how I lost so much weight

and I am pleased to describe my regimen,

yet murderously annoyed

at having it interrupted.