look at this rocky playground, where we scraped knees
to leave them bleeding, then outgrown the stagnant
navy blue and white uniforms, blown into different
directions, flying away-
until divine intervention brought us
back together, no longer naive, yet longing to be free
to do childish misfits and deeds, etching chalk graffiti
of our hopes and dreams, that remained temporarily, when
reality rained and washed them down the drain
and we remain playing nameless games on asphalt
terrain. sometimes taking the leap kills, twisting
life like juvenile ankles and uno reverses, arrays of aimless
green and red lights confuse feelings of yellows and blues. fear
breeds a barrier from traversing outside the track lines, stuck
hopscotching on a single foot into uncharted territory, returning
defeated to square one on this once familiar school property
bones can heal
don’t let zealous desire burn to cast dregs
of shadows upon this school institution, consume
the bonfire, lay down your foundation, brick by brick, and
bounce back like a basketball. stick to goals like
decade-old bubblegum plastered on
these thick walls, and score
afterwards, remember to rest. lie down
in the tranquil shade, amidst half-empty bubble
tea drinks, honey butter chips and frosted Timbits
admire the radiant skies in this safe space, but
beware of incoming balls that could still hit
your face
Victoria Sa (she/her) is a Burmese-Karen Canadian writer and poet. She currently lives in Toronto,
Canada. She graduated from York University with a BA in English and Creative Writing. Her favourite
genres to write are contemporary, romance, and comedy. Focusing on self-identity, she hopes to share
more of the Burmese-Karen culture in her work. When she is not writing, Victoria can be found binging
Asian dramas, reading novels, or starting DIY projects at home.
1 comment
this was so beautifully written :3 looking forward to reading more. craving bubble tea and honey chips to eat at the park now haha