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

January 1, 2012
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I am the makeshift mind
and manifest goals
of many. I am made of oppression,
suppression, snarky looks
and half-frozen eyes.
I am from the very second
that sugar hits glazed bodies
and all but one –
even as one of many –
loses the consciousness to feel alone.

I am from dark hair, red lips
and granny sweaters.
Also, the latent function of superficial beauty.
I am still a plant in a family of polystyrene
made of the positive points in primitive nature.

I am the flamboyant sister of shyness –
a sane lovechild of schizophrenia
and motherly nurturing
from guitars, pencils, and crochet needles.
I am from the comforting shade of willow trees,
and the blistering sun on the seat of my bike.

I am infinite – like the perfect drive on
a perfect day,
yet I, too, will tremble like a spider in the rain.

I am from unspoken promises, ideals
and home-cooked meals on summer evenings,
and the nights I cozy up
and wait for a metal stork to carry me
cross-country, where the hands of palm trees
make gentle gestures
that triumph the age and closeness
of true, lasting love.

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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