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#bluest
She was ugly. A snake of a girl- beady blue eyes and blood-red toenails. The small snigger creeping up through her perfectly kept teeth as she spat at the garbage of the street: the creatures she couldn’t see through her beady blue eyes. Her mama would dress her up in yellow ribbons and green bows. “Why honey, you make a sweet little dandelion,”. She liked to be a dandelion, but secretly she dreamed of being a marigold:                                                                                        Lips parted to the sun,                                                                                                        seeds planted                                                                                  in the rich soil of her own                                                                                                              blackness. She wanted to be a marigold. But she was just a dandelion, stepping on petals and weeding out whatever she longed to be.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
After The Bluest Eye
Can I itch or scratch me away to reveal anything a youth some truths someone else Can I have this essence experience and my mind but let go all else reduced to naked skin made for him and his sin Can I hold old ideals up on alter, unaltered religiously revered completely Black and dull beyond measure just circumstantial by birth and disgusted Can I resolve that ache and wake, new not prisoner of body Self-made misery subject to looks and wordless stares I stripped of me what am I Can I a slightly parting mouth closed eyes Shut away inside until life redirects and time reverses I No longer I Can I have nothing else Recollect No recollections I should mention there's no family or ugly girl No more to see Pecola I Just I Blue eyes like I always knew Can I
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
The Bluest Eye