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