Space | Teen Ink


September 18, 2021
By agwriting GOLD, Sammamish, Washington
agwriting GOLD, Sammamish, Washington
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

My skin is the color of long looks

A long look at the color of scalding chai in a floral teacup

That extra glance when I toe the line for what I ‘should’ be


My name is the sound of silence

A silence that is the sound of my country calling to me

The extra beat before they read it off the roster


My holidays are made of blank spaces

A blank space that is busting with joy, lights, and laughter

Unmarked on a calendar, overwritten by ‘National Flip-Flop Day’


My food is the aroma of pauses and wrinkled noses

A pause that simmers with spices, colonized for and yet unused

The silent disgust with which my lunchbox is eyed


The nothingness is all they seem me as.

A space that once angered me.

But this space is mine.

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