Skin and Bones

Thu, 11/05/2015 - 15:23 -- aptovar

I am

the product of my own mentality

Skin, bones, and white as snow

my imagination and my own reality

 

I wasn’t prideful when it came to my background

I’m made of Latina, I’m made of Spanish

It wasn’t until I was older I admired the fact that

I’m made of American, I’m made of hispanic

 

Skin, Bones, and sharp as a crow

I am made of canvas, paper, and paint

Lavender, Pasiflora, and Chamomile

Of a kind of material nothing could taint

 

I have been forced to be branded

They describe me but I’m not a sculpture

they say mean things, they say sweet

“Voice of a songbird, but the eyes of a vulture”

 

Sentences, chapters, and pages

and I am but a story book

You aren’t supposed judge me

but you do anyways from a look

 

When I was little

I wanted to read your mind

so I learned psychology

to pass the time

 

I wanted to rule the world

When I was five

but now I’m stuck at 5’3”

They said the limit was the sky

 

unique and eccentric

Skin, bones, and colorful hair

I was never the one

you would stop to stare

 

Careful, perfectionist, and insightful

As a youth, I was never so frightful

I was reckless, energetic, and loud

But now I’m studious, charismatic, and proud

 

Theres no one else

I'd rather be

There's no better skin and bones

to call home

than the skin and bones

that are me

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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