I emerge from the tree line. A sight full of wonder and color in front of me. Pinks, purples, blues, and reds. All interspersed amongst the grass.

I lean down to smell a flower Its fragrance is divine. I decided to pick one. Then another. A hoard I start to amass

I weave them into a tiara. A crown for all to see I'll wear it to school tomorrow And show it off in every class.

For now, it's the only thing I want to wear. The trappings of society are constrictive to me. I kick off my shoes and the rest soon follows. Being natural is something clothes can't outclass.

The elders would scoff at how brazen I am. They’d say “Do you want everyone to see?” I hate that society tries to make me ashamed. If they don't like what I do, they can kiss. My. ass.

This is where I belong.  This is how I become happy. It tickles when the tall stems brush my thighs As I run through the grass.

<CW: depression and hints of abuse.>

You know Dasher, and Dancer, and all of the rest.

My name is Olive. I hate that song so this is my version. The true one.

You wouldn’t think it, but Rudy is a bully. He could dish out insults without a care in the world. As the song says, I used to laugh and call him names. Used to. Not any more. I thought he was aiming for a friendly roast. You’d think something he’s been looking at his entire life would be something he’s accepted some good natured jesting about. Nope.

So he went crying off to the pig, “saint” Nicholas.

…

Sorry, needed a second. More on him later. Back to Rudy.

Of course we didn’t let him play in the reindeer games. There are things called qualifiers and he didn’t make the cut.

He should have. In practice, he was a powerhouse. But when it mattered, he choked.

Then he thinks he’s special because his nose lights up a foggy night. Just pointing out that we live on a magically hidden island in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. Fog? Not really a problem. It’s almost a daily occurrence. We know how to get through fog.

But Satan Clause- sorry, Santa Clause- thinks Rudy is so special because red is fatso’s favorite color.

Rudolf is a jerk, but he’s not why I am called “the other reindeer.” That distinction lies squarely with none other than Kris Kringle.

See, I used to be outgoing, fun, energized.

I’m not anymore. All I want right now is to be left alone. I told one other reindeer, so naturally the whole herd knows. I hear their conversations become much more whispered when I come around.

Not like I don’t know what they’re saying.

Olive is a liar. Olive shouldn’t be alone right now. Olive wanted it. I believe her. There’s no way he did that.

On and on. And they all avert their eyes. They are fine talking about me, but not to me. I am the most publicly alone imaginable. All because his “punishment” for what I said to Rudy was to …

Was to…

This is so disgusting. He knows where all the naughty girls are. And yet that wasn’t enough for him.

I’m sorry, I think I’m going to be sick. Excuse me.

<trigger warning: political commentary, guns.>

No, no, no. We were chanting “Paint My Fence!”

We were just looking for some help with simple domestic tasks. Honest!

It’s a very beautiful building, I thought I’d get some pictures. The only shots I took were with my camera… on my phone.

Ok, yes, I am carrying a rifle, but that’s because I am a duck hunter.

Ummm, duck hunting season is in October? Would you believe me if I said buck hunter?

Also not in season? Crap.

I mean, it wasn’t even fired today. Besides, I have a 2nd amendment right to bear arms!

Yes of course I’ve read the constitution. Have you?

A well-regulated militia? It does not say that. You’re making that up. I can have any gun I want at any time in any place.

Wait, wait. You can stop pointing yours at me. Look, I am slowly pulling out the magazine and emptying the chamber. See? The gun is clear. No threat.

I suppose I could put my finger in it, but why?

Ok, ok. Sheesh.

Umm, that black residue has been there since September. No, wait. I mean October.

All I’m saying is I did nothing wrong. This is public property, right? So… I’ll just be on my way. My wife is expecting me to come back with… some… rabbits? Those are in season now, right? Then I need to clean my rifle, since I haven’t since… um… did I say October?

Seriously, you don’t need those cuffs. I’ve done nothing wrong! I am a citizen and have every right to be here.

I’ve done nothing wrong!

I’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!!!

I see the three looking at me. How did my life get to this point?

This morning, I had no problems. I woke and greeted the sun. A few stretches to start the day. My stomach annoyingly announced that it was empty so I started rummaging for whatever I could find.

After breakfast, I went for a walk. It felt so good using my muscles that I wandered most of the morning. That was when I felt eyes on me.

Dangerous eyes. Eyes desiring to hurt. To hurt me. I couldn’t tell exactly where they were or how many, but I had a feeling I was in trouble. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was, but I bolted. I went as fast as I could, but pregnancy really slows a soon-to-be mother.

The eyes were following me.

I heard it, then. A waterfall. I had heard that sound a thousand times and knew how to get to safety.

The eyes were still following me. Somehow they felt even closer. I waddled as fast as my belly would let me when I got to a clearing.

And now here I am. Two are looking at me and the third is sniffing out something behind a tree. I look over my shoulder and breathe a sigh of relief. The dangerous eyes are gone. I feel safe. I step forward and nuzzle my mate as the rest of the pack come loping in to join us. My stomach demands food again. A mother’s work is never done.

Why do I have to sit here? I want to play with the other kids, The teacher took my recess away because I was a distraction. But, I don't understand

My body is changing  Why do I have hair there? It’s a part of growing up they say  But, I don’t understand 

This class is over my head The professor is going too fast I’m trying my best to follow along But, I don’t understand 

They speak a language I don’t know Their stories are full of laughter  They try to include me  But, I don’t understand 

I was once told that I was loved Now they tolerate me They pretend to care But, I don't understand

My body is destroying itself Autoimmune diseases suck I try to do things I once could But, I don't understand

My life has been one major change after another Nothing is ever the same But there has been one constant: I don't understand

Roses are red, Violets are blue, I’m trying my hand at poetry, Because she tells me to.

My first poem, it has been yeeted. More elaborate thoughts are needed. This is too much to ask, My thoughts on this task: [content deleted]

Fine, I’ll try harder, I’ll even try to rhyme. Stupid English assignment, This is a waste of time.

That last one got me a ‘D,’ Now she expects another This one has to be longer My fun, she’s trying to smother.

Meter is to measure distance, Stress is why bridges break. But not in the world of poetry, My use of them is a mistake.

Meter is how many syllables, Stress is which one has emphasis. What I don't understand: The whole point of this is?

I’m done with this assignment. Here’s your longer poem. It would be absolutely great, If I could just go home.

I earned a ‘B,” Home and poem don't rhyme. Make one small mistake. I am frustrated.

I actually want to do well This is kind of fun. She says I lack emotion. I am frustrated.

This is not very easy. I’m a guy so feelings are weird. I don't know what I want to say. I am frustrated.

Still, I will try. I want to express myself. Challenging yourself can be fun. I am not frustrated.