My life is one big misunderstanding,
one big miscommunication.
Mistakes and missed chances,
misled and misread glances.
And it’s no mystery that I miss him but I took a misstep or a miss-turn
and I missed out and now I just want to rip the word “miss”
away from everything in my life.
I want to fix the prefix.
Take it in my fingers and squish it together, stretch the M until its capital
and put it back into my sentences with just a little
Then’ll I’ll be a Miss who understands, a Miss who communicates.
I’ll be a Miss who takes and a Miss who chances,
A Miss who leads and a Miss who reads glances.
I’ll be a Miss who steps and a Miss who turns,
I’ll be a Miss who’s out and a Miss who’s learned…
learned that maybe you can’t just fix the prefix.
Or force the words to remix.
Let the letters snap back together, unclench my fist,
turn around and smile when they say…excuse me Miss?