27 December, 2016

Hoping for Apples

Lizbeth Green

When I was young
Therapist would tell me I needed to tell them what they wanted me to tell them
but I didn’t know what to tell them so I told them to tell me.
I spoke with mountains in my voice and fireflies in my fingernails.
I never left the house without a hat on and the sense that everything was going to be okay.
I would think if everyone disappeared how it would BE SO LOUDLY QUIET.
My face would make every expression before it got to the one that felt like sparkles.
I had to change everything that was mine into something mine with a variety of instruments:
Sharpiesglittergluegelpenscoloredpencilsmarkers
Anything bright and different would make me smile.
All that I ever wanted was
To be bright and different, and smile

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