1. Portrait of Adolescent America
I find America tucked away
inside the lines of my hand,
searching for a safe-space
in a trench of creases /
Close my fist & watch promise
escape, wings of a butterfly
leave me empty-handed even
to the blood of my own veins /
Here in a dressing room
is America, changing identity
& tasting the confusion
of someone else’s skin /
Unfit plastic hangers scatter
a darkened floor, among
broken bodies, destroyed
by a structure of violence /
Inside her mouth, a song turns rough,
something forbidden between her teeth:
polarized by a distinct tastelessness,
marked by a swallowing aftertaste /
A hormonal America screams,
heartless, into formless pillows;
she asks for answers to arrive
& will for true effort /
America fights against her
dysphoria, trying, learning
to appreciate every scar from
freedom-fighting on her body /
The first time America dyes
her hair, she realizes that every
color is more beautiful than
her fathers declared them to be /
2. time-lapse of girlhood
as i grow up
i learn
to spit out words
of distaste
to bite only the cookies
that are under-baked
to rename my identity
out of spite
in response
my mother tells me that
she who asks for forgiveness
for someone else’s sin
is a mother
& sinks back in
to the blades of her shoulders
*
one day i realized my rage
would never be more than
delusion
my passion
would never be more than
aggression
i
would be nothing more than
an angry girl
*
this day,
i imagine a voice inside my stomach
only to silence it
in fear that someone else
will hear it
& condemn a worthless life
keep my feet on the ground
swelling to match
a full earth
3. The Universe, a Woman
- Prologue
They say the universe formed with one big bang but
we all know it must have a mother.
Listen to the theory of maternal relativity,
find power to expand. The blood
of the universe has turned cold in search
of its mother.
- Galaxies
There was a time when my path was enshrined,
when you worshipped my footsteps, gravitating
towards each of my movements. Call it a galaxy.
There was a time when you savored the milk I spilled
and bottled it up like a genie for posterity to stare
and wonder at.
There was a time when you looked up at the sky
& saw only my light. You prayed to me
& divinity.
- Nebula
They say that when woman is angry
she devours the whole world.
They are wrong, of course –
she devours the entire universe.
All that is left is dust,
dust in more colors than emotions felt
when I swallow you whole.
My fingers are the pillars of creation
that give you this life. I birth the stars you sing of.
Orbit me. Feel ego dissipate into dust,
dust.
By Uma Menon
Uma Menon is a fifteen-year-old student and writer from Winter Park, FL. Her writing has appeared in Dark River Review, Ms. Magazine, and Borgen Magazine, among others. Her first chapbook was published with Zoetic Press in January 2019. Uma is also a nationally-ranked Lincoln-Douglas Debater and activist for marginalized groups.
