Riley Choma Poems

I am an individual that looks in the mirror and sees a body but not myself.

In a world that forces us into defining bubbles I ready a handful of pins.
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I know lonely
I know lost
I know judgment
I know fear
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Last picked.
Last sought.
Last seen.
First fought.
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Breath and release like the wind, not with destruction, but rather creation.


Exhale your words and throw yourself out, and not out like gone, but like forward.
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It wasn't suppose to be like this.
I wasn't born for wet lashes and salt upon my lips; quivering.
I wasn't born for public silence and internal screaming.
It wasn't suppose to be like this…
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It's summer vacation and it's thirty degrees.

A sixteen year old girl feels rejected like oil in water and despite how she tries she knows she'll always be separate from those who are wanted.
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Have you ever sat in your room alone starting up at the ceiling all day?


Every part of you aches as your mind says just give up, so you lay there asking yourself..
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Silence; an absence of sound but louder than any.

Like drowning you feel suffocation with-in imperfection.
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She was glass that scratched like the screen of a smart phone.

Down the hallways she was kicked around as she waited for the day when she would be picked back up, but when ever she were it was never long before she was thrown back down.
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