“When I feel angry at you I imagine you
as a little girl with blonde braids
eating a popsicle on a sunny day.
I imagine us all as children eating popsicles
Until the world is so full of us
we all fall into space.”
Lately I have been feeling bodily,
as if in the space between an intake of breath (you)
and an exhale of atoms jerking and crashing (me)
My skin has shifted and womanly
my curves have turned into boats for me to sail in
with hips like icebergs to sink the titanic
And people look at me dangerous
look at me naked.
And when my spine is strung out
like a tightrope stretching between canyons
I am strummed like the strings on a harp,
and to touch is a verb, touching an adjective
this feather-light touch is salvation.
I think young girls are born with fault line
hearts that break off into pieces with every tremor
I think I am still young enough to grow a little more
in my elbows, to stretch my spine a little less crooked
to eat a popsicle
And fall down, down, down.
Sidney Anderson ~ Redmond High School; Winner of the 2013 New Poet’s Society Scholarship