Skylar McClean

Honorable Mention: Poetry

“Tires” 
by Skylar McClean
11th grade, Kent Place School

—

i slur my words when i meet your dad
shake the hand that raised you careful
i imagine you as a southern belle, a prom queen
a life expected of you that i blissfully don’t see
in the picture frames on these walls

best foot forward
best food is in your tiny kitchen
with the cat at my achilles’ heel
she must know where you are on me

with you i like to be the Negro swan
i like to giggle when they say “African-American”
because “Black” implies dirt

together the only thing we will raise is goosebumps
your touch is a compass
i’ll thank god if something ever repels it
look away from me just once a year
when i wish for you over my birthday cake

do you swallow as sharply as i do when you hear
that name they left on me
i want to fight for you in every room
even though no others know your importance
they do not lie with it creating divots in the mattress on the other side of the bed
they do not drive with it in the passenger seat on bashful dark mornings

i lived this tether since we were twelve
and i can’t shake it
i got shame so strong
i ban that inner monologue like they ban books about us
someday i’ll wake up having mastered my
brave face
you are wind beside my fast car and i want to feel every gust