The Pink Table
In a small town, early in the morning
There was a yard sale
Ready for items to be chosen
I stepped over many things on the ground
Waiting for treasure to be found
I laid my eyes on the pink table with delight
Dusty and worn, but still a magical sight.
I pulled on my mother’s sleeve
I didn’t want to leave
Dollar bills were exchanged
And a bargain was arranged
Tea parties and laughter every day
The table was here to stay
Until it wasn’t
After we moved to another place
The table had been misplaced
Mystery may still linger
But I remember the pink table underneath my fingers.
Lashes
I started off with mascara in seventh grade only. Then it turned into putting on lashes before school in eighth grade and taking them off before my dad would pick me up from school. It wasn’t always like that. I grew up in a mainly Hispanic area and was the only Asian in my elementary school.
It was always being the loner at school. The different one.
It was always, Why are your eyes so small? Are you Chinese? How do you say your last name?
I knew it was just kids being kids but it already felt off at the time. I hated the small, monolid, Asian eyes. I wanted to be like all of my classmates. In middle school, I had moved to a different area. But I wanted change. I was tired of being the ugly friend.
Contrasting Narratives
It wasn’t what I thought. I’ve been told a lie for years. Why was he always mad, throwing glass? Why did he break down and cry in front of us sometimes? Why did you make him out to look like the villain?
I always believed you mom. I thought you could do no wrong. I wanted to believe you. He told me in the car five years later. I couldn’t believe it. He told me that he wanted to fix things, to keep our family together. But you were the one who chose a different path. This shattered my beliefs.
Who was that man that you always took us to go eat dinner with, to hang out with? Years before the divorce. Why did you tell us to call him uncle? Why did you introduce him into our lives? I thought it was strange but I didn’t know at the time. Too young to question. Why were you never home? You didn’t have a job.
It takes time to realize that your parents aren’t perfect. They are human like us, therefore having many flaws. And that there’s always more than one side to a story.
I Love Me
I miss the old me,
The one who had straight A’s and always won awards.
I hate the new me,
The one who doesn’t try as hard anymore
I miss the old me,
The quiet and calm one, who kept to herself
I hate the new me,
Always moody and upset
I used to love myself, used to love myself
Don’t know what happened.
Uncontrollable Changes
As a young girl, she was carefree and happy. She aspired to be like the older girls she saw on billboards. As she grew into her teens, she became uncomfortable with her body. Many different changes were taking place. She tried to hide them with baggy clothes, trying to not attract attention.
As she got older, she began getting more comfortable with her body and wore more flattering clothes. She gained confidence but attracted unwanted attention from many men. Her confidence experienced highs and lows throughout her life as if it were a roller coaster. But life shouldn’t be a roller coaster.
After giving birth, insecurities about her body emerged. Even though she had confidence in workout clothes, people started giving her strange looks and she became insecure once again. In the later years of her life, as an elderly lady, she finally found contentment again when she was walking with a young girl.
The only times when she was truly happy and carefree was when she was young and guiding a young girl like she once was through life.
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