by Farah Ghafoor
around boys who bleed neon tail lights,
looking for your colour in rainbow grease puddles.
they say they slit their skin to open closets
and clean them out.
like a scarecrow, scratchy and raw,
scaring all the neighbors away.
with light slicing through the cracks.
everyone a dragon, and you the princess.
all fire and energy wasted on
fighting for a box on a passport.
Author Biography: Farah Ghafoor is fifteen years old and likes the way “poet” tastes in her mouth. Farah is a co-founder and an editor at Sugar Rascals. Her work is published or forthcoming in Alexandria Quarterly, alien mouth, Whirlwind, Moonsick and elsewhere. Find her online at fghafoor.tumblr.com.