Wow made me think of being little and dressed up and told not to move like a child so you can stay a vision for the adults, but I love the redemption at the end, the way it creates enough space for the anger to become the sadness it’s always been. Beautiful
This poem feels like stepping into the small, trembling world of a girl who is already learning to shrink herself.
The green dress and white sash become a fragile armor, something she’s meant to look pretty in while holding back everything she feels.
Her stuffed mouth and wry smile show a child trying to contain words and emotions that have nowhere safe to go.
The red eyes reflected in the paper doves reveal how her inner heat stains even the decorations meant to be pure.
Those pink, crumpled doves feel like a metaphor for a girl whose anger has been softened, dismissed, or washed out by others.
The poem captures how a girl’s rage often begins quietly a sudden flare in the dark that no one else notices.
The Arcade’s dim tunnel mirrors her inner landscape, a place where frustration wanders without direction or witness.
Snow becomes the cold space where she drags her diluted anger, watching it melt into something heavier.
The poem shows how that fizzing rage slowly settles into a sadness she must carry alone, unseen.
And in the end, it reveals the quiet truth that a girl’s anger and her sorrow are often the same wound, just wearing different colors.
Wow made me think of being little and dressed up and told not to move like a child so you can stay a vision for the adults, but I love the redemption at the end, the way it creates enough space for the anger to become the sadness it’s always been. Beautiful
Whooof! Hits hard.