Part I.
Sometimes,
I forget to breathe.
Chewing bone and swallowing pride.
What are you afraid of?
I fall in love with hickeys,
I am addicted to caffeine for a reason.
Lady Caramel,
Princess Pastel Pink,
King of Gold,
Queen of Blue.
I saw someone who doesn’t exist today,
a purple flower of phlox
in an ocean of
sunlight-filtered water.
And in the perforated pages
of my blank-lined notebook mind,
you leave seductive stains of
liquefied gold. (chemical name Au)
The sun is in my eyes,
but I feel fine.
The red paint hasn’t dried,
I am smiling into open air.
The rain is in my eyes,
but I feel fine.
Part II.
Like Sylvia Plath,
we hath
weary eyes,
tired hearts,
and strong bones.
Rolled-up sweater sleeves,
an autumn leaf
sits on my shoulder
as a dull reminder
of everything cold.
My body and mind
are permanently sick
with disgust
of hidden claws
and hidden thorns.
Of cages and their keys
and of all that is
unholy and wrong.
I repeat,
this too, shall pass,
this too, shall pass,
this too, shall pass.
Living for my own cause,
a lost purpose
punctuated by
wet hair
and smiling eyes,
brown eyes.
I like boys and girls
with brown eyes.
My bruises have faded.
The sun is in my tired eyes
and I feel like I’ve been kissed by an angel.
He asks where,
and with my pointer finger
I stroke both wrists,
both hips,
both shoulder blades.
Scar tissue doesn’t heal,
spirals on knuckles,
I’ll make art
by punching walls.
Sometimes,
I forget to breathe.
Francesca Wilkin is 17 years old and a junior at Harriton High School in Rosemont, PA. She have been writing for most of her life but only in 9th grade did she start writing poetry. This is her first published piece.