Francesca

she started off small.
blue teeth
from cotton candy
dripping down
bow tie
lips.
her hands licked the edge
of the sun
and the world
belonged to her.

it couldn’t
contain her wide
blue eyes
ready to receive the gift
of blue skies and plastic
horses and blue rock candy
from the dollar store by the school
sometimes she would see her face
in the rainbow
parking lot puddles
and laugh and laugh and laugh
at the blue
it turned her skin

and her skin
kept changing after that
time pulled at her hair
and her fingernails
and at her nose
and
somewhere along the parkway between
bare belly buttons
and sadness
she grew
too large for the world.

it tried
to contain her wide
blue eyes
to give her a gift
of plastic
cheekbones and tv commercials
and blue feelings and supermodels
on the billboard next to the school
and once she saw her face
in a rainbow
parking lot puddle
and remembered how she used to
laugh and laugh and laugh
at all of the blue

the water rippled and stared back
at her
and slowly
she began to recognize
the sky blushes blue with her.
she feels
she laughs and laughs and laughs
she carries it.

the world.

she carries it,
holds it
in her eyes for you.

By Hailey McMichael

Hailey McMichael is a current senior at Muhlenberg College, studying English and Dance with a passion for creation through choreography and poetry. She hopes to continue to work in a creative field post-graduation, as well as moving into the field of education. Hailey has lived in many different states around the country, and continues to travel in search of truths… and she continually finds her heart searching for more stories to share. Her Instagram is @haileyj16