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Dinnertime Semantics This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   A normal dinnertime conversation,

bland and yearning for color,

hangs heavy in the air,

gaining weight with each word,

threatening to plummet to the ground.

My mother speaks of homework,

my father complains about the dog,

I sit in perpetual silence,

secrets at the tip of my tongue.

They look through me,

eyes resting on the daughter they think they know.

For the fifteenth time in a week,

I tell them I have a good friend,

inside I shout "girlfriend."

I tell them of our closeness,

my heart screams of "devotion."

They smile and blindly acknowledge half-truths,

unaware of a deeper meaning,

unable because I prevent them.

I yearn to tell them who I am,

but instead I blurt,

"How 'bout those Yankees?"




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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TheQueenOfLiberty said...
Jun. 2, 2012 at 9:30 am
0.0 i know exactly how you feel. My family avoids anything they don't want to believe in.....but that has made me the most trusting person to my friends so i dont think that i would change it. because it has made me who i am today. it made me grow up by only depending on myself for emotional growth. you poem has reached me farthar than any of them ever have. thank you 
 
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