Tiny dancer,
teach me to be like you,
with tick legs not very good for carrying weight
but perfect for spinning in circles,
and feet that are as light as feathers
even while they bleed.
I want to know how you carry so much sorrow in your little shoulders,
wrapping the pain around you like a ribbon and
stripping it again like paint, toe by toe, one twinkle at a time.
Tiny dancer
I want to live in a music box
where the music plays so loud I won’t be able to hear my own voice.
Barely remembering to breathe until
the rhythm stops
and I don’t have to anymore.
I can see it now, the key winding to a halt as I finish my last show.
It’s the glimpse of a gravestone,
an epitaph that reads
she was nothing if not nice to look at.
I would like to be beautiful,
If I cannot be real.
Author Bio:
Taylor Yarns is a sixteen-year-old writer from Buffalo, New York. After reading Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh in fourth grade, she realized that she wanted to write for a living, and has been hoarding notebooks ever since. She recently joined her local writing community by becoming a Youth Ambassador at the Just Buffalo Writing Center. Her work is a mix of prose and poetry that incorporates some of the elements of the fairytales that she holds near and dear to her heart, such as magic, love, found families, and characters that beat unlikely odds. She wants to double major in English and Psychology.
teach me to be like you,
with tick legs not very good for carrying weight
but perfect for spinning in circles,
and feet that are as light as feathers
even while they bleed.
I want to know how you carry so much sorrow in your little shoulders,
wrapping the pain around you like a ribbon and
stripping it again like paint, toe by toe, one twinkle at a time.
Tiny dancer
I want to live in a music box
where the music plays so loud I won’t be able to hear my own voice.
Barely remembering to breathe until
the rhythm stops
and I don’t have to anymore.
I can see it now, the key winding to a halt as I finish my last show.
It’s the glimpse of a gravestone,
an epitaph that reads
she was nothing if not nice to look at.
I would like to be beautiful,
If I cannot be real.
Author Bio:
Taylor Yarns is a sixteen-year-old writer from Buffalo, New York. After reading Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh in fourth grade, she realized that she wanted to write for a living, and has been hoarding notebooks ever since. She recently joined her local writing community by becoming a Youth Ambassador at the Just Buffalo Writing Center. Her work is a mix of prose and poetry that incorporates some of the elements of the fairytales that she holds near and dear to her heart, such as magic, love, found families, and characters that beat unlikely odds. She wants to double major in English and Psychology.
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