Brialee Turner

When I was a little girl,
I took my blankets and held them
Up as high as they would go,
So that I could catch all of the colors,
The projections from the screens.

I held a mirror too,
A reflection of the pain
So that I could deflect who
I hated inside my mind,
Myself.

I absorbed all of the hues,
The shapes, the patterns.
Memorizing the movements
So that I could dance perfectly.

Now the little girl inside me rips
The white sheets stained with blood
From cuts and broken glass.

The lights of the cameras
Blind me and I run!

I run far away until
The only light is the stars and
My ideas and my love
And I dance without
Worry that I must catch
The movie of someone
Else’s life.