by Cailey T., 13
if anything, I was a puzzle board of a flower / missing its stomata / in human form, with only a brain for a heartbeat / I can spell each / gap between my words / like a missing tooth / I haven’t stomached any other form of creativity / but I can taste its vacant space / with the decaying thread from the time there was / a loose tooth / I requested for a scissor to stick into my mouth / and cut it off / instead you passed me a box / so bending, I peered in / chest collapsing inward / no; I didn’t hold my stature / frail bones and sagged spine / when the lid snapped shut / now I’m trapped with curiosity / and darkness / but oh! / this gift feels like a lung, two lungs / feels like mockery / it’s my stomata / the missing piece / the placeholder of the vacancy above my ribs but I can’t swallow / it’s too different from tasting / and this, too small / inexact as felt by my remaining teeth / my bones have expanded / to fill in every hollow room / all the pieces cling together and hold each other’s hand / I, growing & growing / thank you for gifting me a mismatched piece / misfitting lungs / this prank taught me lessons of a lifetime that one / art is made from nothing / and two / this tightly shut box instructs me / to keep breathing / nevertheless.
Philippines
Bridge Ink 