Vanessa Chica

Writer-Poet-Educator


I am the girl with the smile, 
who carries the sun to his dark
Not allowed to feel anything but helpful 

What can I do for him? 
I tell him that carrying the sun gets heavy
That it burns my hands
That I hold it much longer than I can manage

Just for him

I tell him that my dark matches his at times 

That I too need 

That I hurt 

He…he asks for more sunlight

I comply

Re-adjust

Blow into my hands for some relief

I wonder, 

If I were to swallow the sun…

Become flames

Would he put me out?
Or complain of heat and seek refuge elsewhere
Vanessa Chica
"The Girl With The Smile"