Emily Kozhina (16)
Adolescence
I know that I am a child. A warped, bug-eyed child,
legs and spine bend and snap like balloon figures,
skin so tight I’ll pop with one more twist of fingers.
Dreams shaped like carnival mirrors, lost with them,
my reflection is no longer mine to keep. Instead it is
bent and trapped in hedge mazes groomed so neatly.
This music grows more sour with each note I sing,
I feel my skin cracking underneath this makeup,
frills make me itch, pit of my stomach sick, nothing new.
I do not understand my role in this carnival anymore.
Plastic platter with cotton candy meals I no longer taste
dissolving in water, with my flesh, too sensitive
for spandex or mirrors I cannot recognize myself in.
I think I will climb up the ferris wheel with my
balloon fingers and watch the world from up here.
of Two Birds
Feathers sewn into skin tight,
Needle-thick eyes stare beyond home.
I do not see you there, standing on cold,
Cannot find your sleekness in the air
Piercing this quilt of heat.
Dear Warm Love,
I’m searching for traces of you in ice,
But I only find feathered coy fish
For when we dine somewhere in the sky.
I will find my way to you.
I couldn’t bear to see you sweat away,
The sun seems cruel to those unprepared.
Rather that, I will find a eucalyptus coat
And find you in the middle of the sea,
Where sun loves us both.
Emily Kozhina is a young writer, still experimenting with all types of genres. She enjoys reading and hopes to one day be able to lick her own elbow.
Adolescence
I know that I am a child. A warped, bug-eyed child,
legs and spine bend and snap like balloon figures,
skin so tight I’ll pop with one more twist of fingers.
Dreams shaped like carnival mirrors, lost with them,
my reflection is no longer mine to keep. Instead it is
bent and trapped in hedge mazes groomed so neatly.
This music grows more sour with each note I sing,
I feel my skin cracking underneath this makeup,
frills make me itch, pit of my stomach sick, nothing new.
I do not understand my role in this carnival anymore.
Plastic platter with cotton candy meals I no longer taste
dissolving in water, with my flesh, too sensitive
for spandex or mirrors I cannot recognize myself in.
I think I will climb up the ferris wheel with my
balloon fingers and watch the world from up here.
of Two Birds
Feathers sewn into skin tight,
Needle-thick eyes stare beyond home.
I do not see you there, standing on cold,
Cannot find your sleekness in the air
Piercing this quilt of heat.
Dear Warm Love,
I’m searching for traces of you in ice,
But I only find feathered coy fish
For when we dine somewhere in the sky.
I will find my way to you.
I couldn’t bear to see you sweat away,
The sun seems cruel to those unprepared.
Rather that, I will find a eucalyptus coat
And find you in the middle of the sea,
Where sun loves us both.
Emily Kozhina is a young writer, still experimenting with all types of genres. She enjoys reading and hopes to one day be able to lick her own elbow.