Golden Girls Elena Oh ’23
Don’t you wish you were made of honey and gold? Dancing in the rain ignoring the cold. No bone-sucking fire ravaging your soul, The judgment of blinkers not taking a toll. the honey and gold taste like sugar and spice, like a warm pine fire breaking the ice. I would know, I used to be honey and gold! but now, I am just tasteless and cold. I wish I was the girl who can dance through the night, Rain drenching her clothes, nobody bothered by her sight. She laughs and cries and cheers with us all and somehow, she’s the one who causes my fall. Both thinkers and blinkers give her a standing ovation, “So pretty, so sweet, so bold!”
But I am left backstage, trapped in comparison wondering, “where can I get that sedation?” Life always seems easy as the main character, But why is it so unfair as the side character? Everyday I breathe and choke on my flaws, While everyday they breathe and exhale applause. My mirrored reflection once caught both my eyes, And somehow the fire inside of me died. And as flecks of shimmer rained again on my soul, I knew that I was still honey and gold. But when the reflection caught my eyes twice, The subdued fire just reignites. As ash tears through my body and slashes my soul I cry out again, drowning in honey and gold.
The Publication of the Arts
41
