Ants

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 24, 2018

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Submitted: September 24, 2018

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There’s me waiting for the bus

I look down and I see ants

red, large and crawling all over my feet

I get nervous because

I feel tiny bites

and I lower myself to shoo them away

but people are watching and I am embarrassed

so I decide to move

there’s no shade above me anymore

I feel the sun and its warm palms

cupping my dark cheeks

tracing its fingers through my dark hair

I get nervous

and lower my head

but people are watching and I am embarrassed

so I decide to move

under the shade where the ants were

because I’d rather the sting of ant bites

than the sting of being reminded

every day

in subtle forms

for the hundredth time

that I am unworthy

with every shade darker

my skin gets.


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