maelynslavik

Ice caps are melting,

According to the news,

Which I’ve stopped reading,

Because I don’t want to hear about the

Melting ice

Underneath the polar bears feet,

Not when I see enough

I wish I was bigger.

I wish I had a little bit more muscle.

I wish there was more between my skin and my bones,

That my ribs wouldn’t show when I take off my shirt,

That I wasn’t made of tissue paper.
 

Dear Mother, 

I have missed you these past few months. 

Where did you go? 

I see you standing there, torch held high, yet you do not answer my calls. 

A ghost of a father.
An angry mother.
A forbidden best friend.
A suppressed love—
A suppressed identity.

Oh, how strange it is to feel alone,
while surrounded by people.

No friends.
Bitter family.

They dine upon marble platters, their feet draped in velvet thread,

While we dwell in the slums, substituting bread with insects instead.

They laugh over champagne, heels clacking on polished stone,

You shape us

physically and mentally

emotionally and metaphorically

you make fun of us

for finding the flaws

the sketchy parts

in your systems

saying

teenagers these days