My palms sweat
jarring promises, fingertips hot.
There are no gentle corners.
There is an electric urgency
that stretches from my throat
to my heart.
I live heavily,
I used to grind together
bright flowers, fragrant leaves
but they only left brown stains
on burning pavement.
I am leaking contradictions
that send steam rising off asphalt.
Don’t tell me to hide the cracks
where weeds grow.
I have nurtured my insanity,
let it crawl through my veins.
Let it pump my heart full of passion
that sings in my blood
now. This is not healthy,
but I’d be lying if I said
I didn’t love the way I think.
I know how to let my nature tug
until it pulls me to the brink.
poem by Navya Dasari, age 16
2014 Gold Key, Silver Medal
BASIS Scottsdale, Scottsdale
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