MATILDA BRAY - UNITED STATES - AGE 16
“I’ve been finding my voice in poetry since I was around five. In 2018 I published my first book of poetry entitled, Under The Moon as My Sun with most of her proceeds going to the Children's Literacy Initiative of Philadelphia. I am a voracious reader, cross-country runner, and writer who regularly competes at open poetry contests. In 2019 I was featured on PhillyCam for the Philly Loves Poetry Interview and Reading Series. In 2020-2021 I participated in seven virtual poetry readings with the Moonstone Press and was interviewed on the Moonstone Poetry Podcast. I have been published in the Schuylkill Valley Journal, Tipton Poetry Journal, Rattle, River Poets Journal, and the Moonstone Anthology. Recently, my poetry has taken a more personal route which I find more difficult but also more rewarding. I hope that by being able to capture the true essence of emotion, and the complexity of lived experience, my poetry can speak to those who need it most.”
__________
LEAVING MY YOUNGER SELF
Bury me
With Slinky's that intertwine
Metallic twang
No more
Twilight purple and Fanta orange
Dollar store
Bury me with sticky jams
In ingrained glass
Lids all gummy
My little hands
Spoonfuls
Organic brands
Bury me
With skirts of powder pink
Stains I couldn’t find
Memories of twirling
Till the base layer showed
Shiny
Rose gold
Bury me
With flavored ChapStick
Cherry and strawberry
Wrappers where princesses dance around
Their noses small
Eyes big and round
Bury me with my insecurities
My friendless days
And timid ways
The trends I followed
Just to stay
With people who hurt me anyway
__________
TO THE BLUE SHORTS WITH THE BIG PINK FLOWERS
I have a pair of blue shorts with huge pink flowers on either side
The kind that makes you think of Hawaii Even if you’ve never been
Right now the white string That’s supposed to be the belt
Is strangely entwined On a hanging storage unit
That I really just put up to feel more organized
My mirror dances with artificial light
A masterpiece of finger smudges and dust particles
It was meant to be the centerpiece of my room
Now it’s forgotten Off to the side
Nail polish bottle labeled Neon pink - how original
Is opened and tipped over on my desk It’s dried up anyway
It doesn’t matter
I had a dark green canopy to resemble the clusters of
tree leaves in rainforests
Now they lie restlessly under my bed Peeking out from time to time
I just kick them back under I feel very lost Sometimes
Very disorganized and hopeful for some change I’ll never initiate
I just look at the blue flower shorts Hanging loosely from the belt
I wanted to rip them off angrily But I never did
Not till the last day this was my room
I guess I kind of liked it that way
At least those shorts never changed