Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

because i am broken

I hang below your palms
suspended by the thread coiled
around your finger.

i am closed,
the fat and skin that crowds
the bones of a shell hidden beneath
sticky
sand that clings to bare feet.

i am so easily read
and i am so easily manipulated.
i have watched blooming,
seen the beauty of growth that i
cannot have
or touch,

wondered if i would ever be so lucky.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback