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Perhaps the first
Was the open sky
Infecting above the carpeted ground.
Books astray in an old wicker basket,
Just enough room for a girl to climb in.
Crayons drawing, thoughts wild; just
imagine at your fingertips
The World.
This is not my place.
The smile I wear is fake.
Constantly fighting to escape your
embrace,
The proof of my struggles remains on
my face.
Through tears in the dark I turn over
to see-
A stranger, a monster, lying next to me
i’m a mannequin, a marionette man, my actions preplanned.
i go through my motions, i do a little dance. My movements based off the crowd’s applause
i give a little wave because
that’s what i was made to do, that’s what i’m made to do, that’s what she makes me do.
Hi my name is Ayiana
Once upon a time,
I was a young girl
Seeing the world through rose colored glasses
my mother sobbed to herself at the kitchen table
Wondering why
Crying tears that would not relinquish
depressed feelings