Purple Crayons-Anika Hummel

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when shadows pull on tall glass windows of laundromats
pour your memories into masses of swirling dirty water
watch it fade out and beat with deafening rhythm
live in a house with dusty floors and hospital colored walls
but at least the sheets will be crisp and white
tie up your hair
cease to let a curtain of doubt forever hide your face
tip toe into the garden at night
pick out the bleeding red flowers that were meant to be untouched
be scared when the doorbell echoes down the halls
but forgive yourself when aromas of burnt bread stain the kitchen
it will give it life
do not molt away your skins like onion peel
put on a dress with colors of ten thousand songs
then lose everything in the lake behind a hemlock bridge
dine at the most expensive restaurants
pretend that you could afford the world
bar stools never were that comfortable anyway
dont be too happy when you catch someones eye
you've known him for many years already
go home and bake apples into red meaty pulp
refrain from listening to all the words that told you you are not good enough
no one ever is
give your child a notebook
tell her to draw pictures of her future self with purple crayon
but never linger in a past that tore a piece of soul from your body every day
see the future in purple crayon
dont fuck strangers who tell you you are pretty
but accept that wonderful stranger who will never come back
When tears fall salty and clear with regrets
crumple small pieces of notebook paper
set fire to the remains of all those beautiful innocent faces
watch young girls crumbling in yellowy smoky rooms
and observe how much cocaine looks like sugar particles
in the morning let the sun shine clear and cold on your back
breath in crystal cool air when it cuts your lungs like glass shard
 see the world through new uncovered eyes
see it for what it really is
a party for the weak and a struggle of the wiser

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Anika is a sophomore at Ithaca College, majoring in creative writing and considering a minor in photography and film. She lives on a farm with her seven cats and her horse in the tiny village of Hector in Upstate NY. She has been consumed by her love for writing fiction and poetry

since the age of eight, and dreams to one day become a published novelist.