She Dreamed of Speech

You could tell that she was sad by what she was wearing. 

Her chest was bleeding a black t-shirt with no patterned purpose,

her jeans the kind of jeans that were a faded promise, 

rips in the wrong places of her kneecaps.

Her midnight shoes lost canvas and traction to the ground 

with each step that was too heavy.

She wore a misty hat, holes near the spots of her head

that absorb cold air and

govern the way that she breathes. 

 

She was, and she had depression.

And you could tell that she was sad by what she was wearing,

but it was her eyes that completed a muted image

of the girl known as a rat.

They did not absorb the sunlight

they absorbed florescence.

And she did not see the sound waves 

that are called laughter by the people around her, 

or the green tips of ferns that portray an organic happiness 

to the hopeful elementary school kids that held them 

in their pedestal fingertips.

 

She saw the child in the corner of the grocery store 

that had one piece of bread this week,

and she saw no mothers in sight. 

 

She saw hushed voices of 

angry and bullying mouths like a contagion 

that entered the pores of her silent friend in the desk chair,

The one that thought about suicide

But never followed through,

Because she did not feel worthy of the

after-death stories of remembrance

that were to follow her evanescence

like a martyr for the areas of her

high school halls that worshipped guts and hearts.

 

She saw her white skin and her feminine aura,

And with that she saw

That her body was no more than a body

To the senior boy that lied to her 

When he said he liked her poems about

The blurred lines of her femininity

Just as much as her poems about

Flowers sprouting from her

Female genitals,

Instead of the weeds she coined inequality.

 

She saw the halls of her high school as a chamber,

Keeping each and every vibration silent.

There was silent stress to the point of failure,

Silent use of mascara to the point of new faces,

Silent bleached hair to the point of a

Disintegrated sense of self,

And silent hip hugging pants

That made the boys jump but made

The girls sit quiet and still.

 

And she saw one simple,

retina displayed thing left to do:

She saw reason to get loud. 

Reviews

[Autumn Lyric]

Amazing depth and insight from such a young heart...Impressive work. Thank you for sharing!

[E.L. Debbage]

This is so so beautiful, wow.

[Mayank]

wow! this had eerie feeling plus the sadness. I love the way you have created the picture of the girl here... I could visualize her the moment I closed my eyes.