leaf
free verse poem
we used to search the autumn ground
for skeleton-like leaves,
fascinated that flesh could be
hollowed out so precisely.
i wanted to be a lacy plant,
a perfectly pristine
doily, dining with queens, blushing my
non-existent cheeks,
with burnt sienna veins, bloodless and dry,
pay it no mind, i don’t
need a color, my identity doesn’t have to
be anything but mine.
gradually, every bit of body, carved away,
to leave a structure,
missing everything but walls, a fragile paper,
easily destroyed.
i am the skeleton leaf, sought after,
stepped on daily,
unnoticed until you seek it, until you want it, and
forgotten when it crumbles in your hands.
Chris Taylor is a young writer who creates poetry as a coping mechanism, sharing it as a way to connect with others. In their spare time, they enjoy spending time around dogs, family, and listening to electronic and alternative music.
