I breathe in the metallic scent of blood
and say my farewell to the city that raised me.
Once, she cradled me in uncertain arms,
nurtured me with her violence dressed as love.
She smothered the people who spoke
Ma and Pa’s dialect, pried open my mouth,
pulled out all my teeth, laughed
and taught me to speak properly.
In the city of neon, my voice is swallowed
by the rustling of the crowd.
She claimed she loved me, muffling my cries—
silver bruises staining my child’s body.
When she was done, I begged for more
Because her spoon-fed poison was sweeter than starvation.
She held me like she loved me,
I was hers to have, in any way she could’ve wanted—I was hers.
But now, having packed ten blurry years into suitcases and photographs,
I stand at the edge of my city. Her manacles left scars winding around my wrists.
Do you hear my voice echoing in the streets? I am free, forever marked
by the city of neon lights that took me—
made me what I am.
Abby Zhang lives in Montreal, Quebec with her family and golden retriever. She is currently a student in grade 11 at Lower Canada College. In her free time, she is passionate about writing and music. Her favourite figure of speech is the zeugma and she loves both written and Slam Poetry. She has been writing since she was 11 years old. Her writing is usually inspired by her mundane day to day life because she believes in seeing the beauty in little things.