now and then
i still find it hard to love
the mess i was born as
and have become
there i go again—
but this clay figure has already been molded
went through the roaring fire of a kiln
my body is made, can’t be changed
wish i could break it, then replace it
fragile beauty crumbles to the touch
waiting for the set of hands
that would keep me tough
my ceramic skin is no less than a bluff
call it an exhibition for the hollow one
there’s glaze for the cracks
gained not from old age
below my eyes, in the bags
i keep my sculptor heart there
pressed to change
any flaw is fatal
the louvre (cap L?)will be my final home
or else i’ll tip myself over the shelf
and when i shatter
my skin would flake off
break off like puzzle pieces
then i start scrambling
to reach for the paint
reach for the clay
reach for the white cloth that hides the day
natural beauty, still a conduit of insecurity
no more tour, exhibition, gallery
hide me away
till i stop scratching at my new skin
because it pains the artist to see
pieces of me lying on the floor
when i’ve spent so long
piecing me together
Evan Wang is a freshman at the Upper Merion Area High School. After picking up the pen two years ago, he’s never let it down. He currently resides in King of Prussia, PA with his parents who support his poetry despite not understanding a single word. Evan loves reading, listening to music, journaling, and diving into some watercolor and colored pencils from time to time. His biggest inspirations are Amanda Gorman, Savannah Brown, and his life.