Poem Every Day in July 7: By Design


I used to think of myself
as quite the little fashion designer.
I spent hours poring over sketches:

young women with block-color hair
wearing dresses full of angles,
collars chopped crisp and low

to emulate the girls I’d seen,
the youthful actresses, the older cousins
who I someday hoped to become.

Every face shone bright
unless it was mine, when I drew myself
in baby blue and titled it “Shy Sky”––

that one features a reserved smirk,
and even the exaggerated emerald
I chose for my eyes falls flat,

impassable. It’s hard to imagine
I once thought of myself this way,
misunderstood and tightly self-reined

when really I have always possessed
the multitudinous vibrancy
of a fully-stocked box of pencils.

I have always sashayed and wept,
rainbows, ostentatious and unafraid
to illustrate myself brightly––

and although nervous to document
my full-blast vulnerability,
I’ve remained courageous in the flesh.

Author’s Note: Okay, so maybe I’m misleading you with the title of this post. The entirety of this poem was created on July 8, 2017, because I was a busy bee on July 7. But don’t worry––yours truly will still be providing a full 31 poems this month for you to enjoy.

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