Teen Poetry — Dear Ana by Natalie

Dear Ana,

There was a time, when I knew someone like you
She had brittle hair like you
Skin paper-thin by her own mind, waist deep in her own scars

The difference is, Ana, you let the water pile
Let the wave metastasize until you drowned in your own bones
You piled pain into a driftwood boat
Numbers swiftly plunging you into acid and antiseptic
Tricked by your own eyes, you learned to despise yourself

Cosmo magazine to guys on the street, dressing room mirrors
Remedies to make you less obscene, shrink yourself into a pretty doll package as if you deserved cardboard walls.
And I feel sorry for you
Can only feel pity because your brittle skin has pushed my empathy away

Refusing a primary tool for survival controls
Whispers syrupy nonsense to you, but crumbles you
Pulls the floor from underneath, food from the mouths who want it, need it

And you have become a bag of sticks and stones columns
Blood running dry, skin cracking at the seams

But metaphors are too graceful to describe what you have turned yourself into

Ana, do not tell me you are satisfied

-Natalie, 7th grade

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