Genna Kinn (15)
A Diagnosis
somewhere out there i am an equation
of metal and rust. no longer blood and bone
my skin has been scraped away by my own
damned fingernails
and i’ve forgotten how to say my own
damned name.
somewhere out there i am growing from roots
that have been soiled
by the best possible earth
except conditions counteract
the hard work of the fragile ground.
somewhere out there i’ve been fed lies tied with truths, to make them more believable.
and i do believe them, but not because they’re transparent,
because i’d sooner sift myself to read
sugar-coated complications than to face
fear with my own two eyes.
somewhere out there i want to sing chords that
make my heart run out of honey
and my tongue run into lulls
but the world i’m in shuns music and melodies;
i feel like i’m being discoloured and
muted, like everything i’ve ever learned
about love
is rotting away beneath me.
here, it’s determined i have panic problems,
and sadness that knows too much more than
simple subtraction.
here, i fear i’m nothing more than my diagnosis.
because where does it start
and where do i end
because
if i get better
what will be left
because
i’d rather rust,
be plucked,
and shade myself in the colour grey
than share this body with
something
that can control me.
Gen will be starting Grade 10 in the fall. She is very passionate about music and art, as well as expressing herself in various forms of literature. Writing gives her the freedom to guide herself, along with others who have trouble finding their own path. Her other works are currently published on social media.
A Diagnosis
somewhere out there i am an equation
of metal and rust. no longer blood and bone
my skin has been scraped away by my own
damned fingernails
and i’ve forgotten how to say my own
damned name.
somewhere out there i am growing from roots
that have been soiled
by the best possible earth
except conditions counteract
the hard work of the fragile ground.
somewhere out there i’ve been fed lies tied with truths, to make them more believable.
and i do believe them, but not because they’re transparent,
because i’d sooner sift myself to read
sugar-coated complications than to face
fear with my own two eyes.
somewhere out there i want to sing chords that
make my heart run out of honey
and my tongue run into lulls
but the world i’m in shuns music and melodies;
i feel like i’m being discoloured and
muted, like everything i’ve ever learned
about love
is rotting away beneath me.
here, it’s determined i have panic problems,
and sadness that knows too much more than
simple subtraction.
here, i fear i’m nothing more than my diagnosis.
because where does it start
and where do i end
because
if i get better
what will be left
because
i’d rather rust,
be plucked,
and shade myself in the colour grey
than share this body with
something
that can control me.
Gen will be starting Grade 10 in the fall. She is very passionate about music and art, as well as expressing herself in various forms of literature. Writing gives her the freedom to guide herself, along with others who have trouble finding their own path. Her other works are currently published on social media.