i am watching the world through a plastic film at all times. i am constantly observing, watching, writing. my brain is constantly churning out art. here is a small piece of it. take it in thoughtfully

~a. ana

pick me

i envy girls who can command a room

i tend to make myself as small as possible

when i make my presence known, i'm

abrasive, obnoxious, annoying

when she does it, she's

charming, beautiful, cool

when people look at me

it is as if they are looking through me

where she seems to have her own gravitational pull

they beg her to keep spinning

what is it about me?

pick me apart 

tell me exactly what is wrong

please

i long to fit in

please pick me

look at me

no not like that

look at me like you look at her

look at me as if the world will stop turning if you don’t

i long to know what is like to be the favorite person in the room

you have no proof

at first it was

if there's no bruises

no marks, no evidence

there's nothing they can do

when purple dotted my body

snaking up my legs, my torso

it was as long as there's no blood

no one will hear

whilst my skin stained red

it dripped, then smeared

it was still alright

because my bones were intact

you're lucky

god forbid something in me finally snapped

then you would really be in trouble

sea salt

my toes curl up against the edge

fragments of pebble and earth

settling in between them like pinpricks

a blanket of blue beneath me

no end to be seen for miles

the shape of you the only pattern

the only contrast, the only haven

your whispers of encouragement drift up

floating around but never quite landing

my ‘what ifs’ echo back to deflect

a grin twists upon your glass skin

i ponder if sinister or real

two options weigh between my shoulders

lain in a heart not partial to change

the wind collides into my back

i stumble,

and

down

i

go

gasping the icy sea salt air

i catch your gaze

and crash

in the blanket of endless blue

fears riding with me through the waves

will you pull me out, or see me drown?

sweet tooth

my name is honey

dripping from your tongue

down my throat

warm flowing through my veins

engulfing me in sweetness

the foreign flavor shocking

my taste buds only knew

bitter and sour

never have they enjoyed such a vibrant flavor 

before

the market shelves were only lined with

bumps and bruises

acids and spices

that burn and scrape against organs

bubbling up

suffocating

smothering

screaming

til i gave in

accepting the taste

until you came in

the new display

embodying sugar spice and everything nice

i grab a sample

hesitant

taking a bite

and i fall down

down

down

singing

soaring

smiling

i’m starting to think i have a sweet tooth

~ a. ana

is it better to speak or to die?

what do i gain from speaking up

for being accused of being too sensitive

too defensive

‘this is just the way the world works’

they say

and i can’t change it

am i not allowed to advocate

for my people

or anyone else’s

for the children who can't speak for themselves

or the disabled who are brushed past every day

my words fall upon deaf ears

‘i don’t care i don’t care i dont care’

they laugh at me

throwing daggers

giving into centuries of oppression 

and saying the world will never change

they will never change 

but i refuse to believe it

ignorance isn’t bliss

you are not self righteous for refusing to care

you are a coward

allowing the world to go on this forsaken path

you are part of the problem

the world won’t change if you wont change

if you don’t look in the mirror 

to shame yourself for your willfulness

you wield so much more power than you realize

you have the power to prevent famine

to prevent poverty

to prevent anguish and death

don’t name call me

don’t shame me

at least i have the courage to tell it how it is

and i will keep telling the story over and over

even when your eyes avert my gaze

even when your scoffs interrupt

because unlike you

i refuse to be complicit in evil

~ a. ana