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Andrea Anderson is a nineteen year old poet
living and working in Dayton Ohio, USA.
ELEMENTARY
SCHOOL
A small tear
falls down
on my little desk
My head is hot
tucked inside my arms folded
on my little desk
I cover my ears
in avoidance
of the taunting children
Another tear falls
and my head gets hotter
I sniff back the sobs
so they won't hear me
so they won't know I'm hurting
So they'll stop
The bell rings to recess
I wipe my eyes and run outside
An ephiphany is made
by a ten year old
this epiphany isolates me further more:
As I look around me I see the children
huddled in their little cliques,
I see the rich kids
who can afford the "coolest of clothes,"
and the smart kids
with their noses in books
even the dejected kids
all together-
And I stand here
and find myself utterly alone
In looking back
I realize that I've always been alone
I stand out in my own little light
but now
I no longer hide my head in my arms
and no more tears stain my little desk
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UNDER THE WIRES
Engulfing the broken shell
A cold metal frame
Bound by wires
Rusty screws infiltrate the jagged metal corners
Scantily holding it all together
And you’d think that these wires run through the rest of me
Maybe I’m a puppet
Maneuvered by these pseudo manacles
It’s a bomb, a mass of mangled wires
Which wire do you sever to defuse it?
In fear or maybe even lack of interest/experience, you admit defeat
Leave the bomb ticking
And the world might end with the explosion
Then again, maybe it won’t
I need the writhing strings around my heart
I need the chains and padlock bolted to my soul
I need the abrasive steel wool sheets stapled to my mind
No one has the tools, it seems,
To cut the strings
To unlatch and unlock the chains and padlock
No one has resilient hands to rip the steel wool
I’m a porcelain doll
Fallen off my shelf
I’m a frigid porcelain doll
With a broken face and paint chipped from my appendages
My feathery cotton stuffing coming out
Did you stop to think
That maybe I’m not afraid
To let you see that I’m broken
I’d let you rip off the bandage
To kiss the wounds
But you faint at the sight of blood
At the sight of my imperfections
Will you defuse the bomb
Or let me explode silently inside?
BATTLING
First light of dawn is seeping through the break in the
blinds
The lonely night accompanying me cowers
Streaming rays of light fall upon a lifetime of hidden tears
Faintly glistening with each stroke of the rising sun
A war now ensues; lethargic demons attempt to defy the approaching day
They struggle to impede the rebel light
But the sun punches its fiery fist through the emptiness
Illuminating the smoke clinging to the air
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