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

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I was a hummingbird at the stairs.
Climbing with speed that is not my own,
Wings that I do not possess.
Keep my pendant heart on a silver chain
For I have lost my locket.

I was a mockingbird on planes,
air-tight spaces.
Thinking of what music to wear on my wrists
Sentences made by someone else's pen
My pen is made of my own thoughts
I think like that of the blue jay
of what could be mine,
of what could be less.

I turn my nose at the mockingbird.
I pity its sins;
Arms made to be wings, but they keep their fingers.
Beating the cotton air,
beaten.
Then lonely growing up
in a crowd of people too differentto appreciate metal.
The cold in me reflected.

I am sorry for my youth
and my questions.
Nothing is explained until I am older
and lack the question of previous turns.
I know now the answer,
although you have taken my question.

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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