WE NEVER WANTED TO BE FORTUNE COOKIE CHILDREN
Yet there we huddled: curled inside our shells,
our futures already written and pressed
against our bodies. The ink
wet and viscous. The letters
hollow, ringing. Your lucky numbers are…
But listen now: to the crackle of plastic, to the snap
of a splitting sky
spilling light into the corners
of our home. Hurry—
there you go. Keep clinging.
Your toes swing beneath you
as you watch shingles, walls, a chimney
tumble below. Your fortune flutters,
sprawls unconscious across sidewalk.
You don’t let go to save it—
you let go because we must
and hit the ground limping
before we pave a real road.
By Kaitlyn Wang
Kaitlyn Wang is a high school senior from the San Francisco Bay Area. She is a poetry reader for Polyphony H.S. and a poetry editor of Soundings, her school’s art and literary magazine. Her writing has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, and she is a California Arts Scholar.