The Ground Girl
By: Emily Ann Hansen
Take her down from the celsestial sky and put her on the ground.
She walks strange.
She looks weird.
They cut me in a million pieces and wonder why the parts are unable to fit cohesively. Shades so different it's blinding. Would you rather I was colorless?
How boring she is they would say, how bright she is they comment.
I am not the change they want until they've dulled down all the shine. I wish she was her again. Oh, I was the night sky until one day you ripped out all the stars. It's a fragile atmosphere my dear. Pull the right cord and we could all disappear.
WE rescued her.
I miss them. Their coal lips and soft fur.
We are your family.
Let me go home.
I am not a ground girl. I am not a round girl. Take me to the moon.
They’re monsters my dear. Cosmic murderers. We are the saviors.
She is a mirror; for what they see is only what they desire.
I am not a ground girl. I am not a round girl.
It has to be done.
Please take me home.
About the blog:
Emily Ann Hansen
I'm a writer and teacher living in Baltimore City. I'm originally from Chicago. I graduated from Columbia College Chicago with a BA in Fiction. Instead of babbling, I will list a few of the things in life that make me happy: