• Allison B.


Updated: Oct 20, 2019

God, I used to love Ariel;

I’d emulate her hair with

my own ferocity, and

fed my curiosity for why

she and I were alike—

we both aren’t the socialite

but I-I was too shy, while

she couldn’t speak;

her agency: obsolete

which felt bittersweet

because I could

but I never thought

it made much a ripple,

as if I stippled

over my sentences

so I was only ears,

never voicing my fears,

growing complacent in

what others want for me,

responding to the names

they thought mine should be,

until they started stealing

myself away for free

when I finally found

a way off the paper, I

didn’t think my words

would bounce off the tops

of people’s heads--

but then again,

why shouldn’t they?

so I’ll save my breath

because one day,

it will be my last, and

I don’t want it wasted

again on others,

instead of myself

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