Poet of the Week: Kayleigh Hicks

I am bright yellow
my face twisted into a grin
you’ll wince if you stare too long
sunshine dripping down my chin

none of this is never called into question.
A face without lines to chart my flaws,
openness shown on a vacant expression,
sustaining myself with bottled applause.

I welcome sleep
with open arms
and never injected ink nightmares into my skin,
I do not have scars
pressed into my palms
and never watched myself get thin.

My feet are planted
firmly in this world I live in.
I take life for granted
ignoring the suffering of others;
blinkers made of skin.

I only place importance on my own life.
I’d sell myself to avoid death’s list,
removing the gears, watching the clock unwind
as I press a knife to time’s wrist.

Because
I was never taught
how to be faithful,
silken selfish spun lies
were weaved into my hair,
now I spin my own webs
into the lines I speak.
I am solid steel on my surface
but beneath I am weak,
a pale imitation of a girl
stepping on stage
to whisper my dishonest prayer.