Texting in Class

I used to swear never to text in class
those girls with bleached hair and
vacant stares would NEVER count me
among their vapid ranks- but, alas,
tapping those numbers in sequence
to form letters, words, sentences, stories
just is common place in my life, does that make
me blank, like a slate with no chalk?
I balk at the thought, my face is streched canvas
wearing a bemused expression I've taught myself
over a period of tense, tender hook times
and I decide that I guess I'm just a hypocrite
like you and you, but not her, there are still
wonderful people worth being with
I think I'm one of them
If I make you laugh, the sound of a chime being
plunked upon, toss a little slant rhyme in
just to throw you off, a tap dancing
crocodile that promises magic tricks in the second
act. Here I go again,
zephyr without an earth below it, only
sky filled with sunlight and rain and the promise
of love, joy and an underying pain that
I don't think I'll ever figure out how to make go away.
I'm sorry I threw my pain at you, too,  
I wanted you to look at it and decide it was
okay for me to have, and then give it
back because you're okay with me being like
that, happy sad cheerful and smiling mad little girl that I am
not unlike a quizzical and laughing loon.
My joy covers a heavy noonday sun
hug, warming me because I know that I'm going to
trust again trust myself because I'm a hypocite, oh yes
politician blood runs oily and thick through my
veins much to my dismay and my joy-
I get to examine EVERY ANGLE!! like
a slightly devilish angel and I know
that I can text under a gummed up desk
and debate with others who test my patience
why capital punishment is a horrible brains fried within
body scoarched neck
broken swaying swaying kind of thing. I confess,
I wanted something that would have made me less
than me, so I'm both sorry and glad that you didn't accept
it and that you refused to hold my rage;
I wouldn't have done it either, because I
am that caged beautiful hypocrite just like you, you and
her, and we are not like the girls who are just
one thing, the ones who wear pearls like diamonds.
We know what they are, and we wear them
like stars.