Sunday, May 08, 2011
Winner Teen-ager category, Christine Keshishyan, 14
You’re my carnival gift,
my companion when I walk
in the park. You are my chocolate
hair and my caramel eyes.
When I’m angry or hurt,
I throw you across the room.
You just take it. I know.
I’m the one without a brain;
I’m the one without a heart.
You know how to love,
how to wrap me in your arms.
You're not embarrassed to hold
my hand, but I throw you under
the bed when my friends come over.
I had countless dreams about you, about us.
But It seems like you're growing
too old for me, or is it
the other way around? I’m not sure.
Mother says, “I should let you go,”
but I can’t imagine you in the wastebasket.
Stop looking at me like that. Say something.
Anything. Please. I can’t let you go.
I can’t. I swear I can’t.