The people all gathered around their faces awe-stricken…

The people all gathered around their faces awe-stricken…at the sight that laid before their eyes.  The magnificent utopia and Lord Swav was more stupendous than they could have ever imagined. The only way to get there was on the ship that flew that only there only once a year. Dangling almost on the edge Emilee excitedly studied the view before her. Dragons flew and castles were plenty. A tiny fairy landed on her hand and she gasped. She had never seen anything so beautiful as everything that was in front of her. The fairy bowed acknowledging Emilee presence and flew off. Lord Swav sat in his thrown in the tallest tower of the Castle. He had is own crew of Horn players that played loud and clear in respect of his royalty. He had the richest brown wavy hair and dark green eyes. Emilee could see her through her binoculars that she was holding up and looking through.

“Don’t be too fascinated” A man’s voice came behind her. “There are bad things too.”

Triggered Thoughts on the poem “Hanging Fire” by Audre Lorde

Hanging Fire

By Audre Lorde 1934–1992 Audre Lorde

I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me   
the boy I cannot live without   
still sucks his thumb
in secret
how come my knees are
always so ashy
what if I die
before morning
and momma’s in the bedroom   
with the door closed.
I have to learn how to dance   
in time for the next party   
my room is too small for me   
suppose I die before graduation   
they will sing sad melodies   
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do   
and too much
that has to be done
and momma’s in the bedroom   
with the door closed.
Nobody even stops to think   
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team   
my marks were better than his   
why do I have to be
the one
wearing braces
I have nothing to wear tomorrow   
will I live long enough
to grow up
and momma’s in the bedroom   
with the door closed.
 

This poem really hits a soft spot for me. I feel like every young lady or even old can connect with this poem because I’m almost positive every young girl has felt like this at some time or another in their adolescence. I definitely felt like this when I was a young teen and I think a lot of it could still apply to my life now. When it says “my skin has betrayed me” the first thing I think of is pimples. I hate pimples. And the funny thing is that I thought you’re only supposed to have them when you’re young- when you’re fourteen- when you’re the young girl in this poem- but I still have them and sometimes wonder if my skin will ever stop “betraying me.”

“What if I die…” The author repeats similar lines throughout the poem. As a child, a young teen, and still today I fear death. I always have. Often if I’m having an anxiety attack I am convinced I am dying. I have also been somewhat suicidal off and on throughout my life.

Throughout the poem the mother’s bedroom door is closed. In the poem it might mean the mother is doing drugs, or having sex, or maybe just sleeping or working- maybe just isn’t there for the daughter or isn’t “present.” To me in this poem this is my mother and she has depression- technically bipolar disorder. The closed door is the wall between to the two of us when she’s not feeling well, or when she has random spurts of anger and can’t understand me or hurts me because she’s not truly aware of what she’s saying. “Nobody even stops to think about my side of it.” Often I’ve felt like this. I feel as though I’m “in the middle” a lot when it comes to my family and often I wonder if anyone actually thinking about how I feel- the person its usually all about. Even though the situation is often about me it’s like I’m not really there. -Mikayla Lewis