In a world where only outsides are judged,
Like book covers, we’re skimmed, not read.

I’m dismissed,
Not for what I lack,
But for what they think she has.

Pretty privilege stands beside me,
A silent comparison that speaks louder than my voice.
Maybe she’s more capable, or maybe she isn’t,
But it won’t matter.

They’ll shake my hand,
Eyes locked on her smile,
Forgetting my name before the grip even loosens.
Was I even here?

She laughs, a hollow sound, rehearsed and effortless,
And the room responds. And I’m left standing,
Alone in a room, full of people
Who refuse to see me.