shape shifting by Reeti Ramchandani (15, Dubai)

everyday my body morphs into the emotions that run inside my veins. one day i’m the sun, everyone’s talking about me, everything revolves around me. my brightness is a force that’s overflowing. other days, i’m a messily arranged chocolate cake, designed to be looked at/picked at/sneered at. the feelings are temporary, however. the sun inevitably bursts and the cake is swallowed up, evaporating into nothingness.

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today i’m a bus stop. i’ve been one for a while. people come and people go but there’s no room for
anyone to stay. the constant affirmations of “maybe in another life” ring in my head because even though
i’m easy to let go of, it’s hard for me to let go. i’m being overused, by other people but mostly by myself.
soon, i fear i’ll collapse into a pile of broken dreams and shattered memories.

​the bus stop remains open, while i remain drowning deep between the turned pages of poetry i write. my
life translates into a million synonyms of the words ache, try, cry and more. i have these put on display,
marked all over my skin as people enter and exit my orbit. they do this so simply, so easily, as if it’s not
tearing up my last feelings of hope. and as much as my body is being taunted at, it’s going to eventually
end up forgotten, left on the side of the road. myths will circulate around the deserted bus stop that
inflicted pain on every soul that walked inside it. you could curse my name a hundred times, it’s nothing i
haven’t heard before. but if i’m ever loved without the shadows of selfish wishes, i’ll be stunned and
excited, and the feelings of being unlovable will disappear. the bus stop will disappear. and my body will
take on the shape of the new fondness entering its system.

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Reeti Ramchandani is 15 years old and a high-school sophomore in Dubai, UAE. She owns an anonymous writing account and has been featured in Teen Ink Magazine. Even though she is just in high school, Reeti knows she wants to pursue writing throughout her life.