{Featured in Issue 01}
My body is a canvas, and she is my muse.
Her portrait is hung in my gallery alongside the countless others I’ve ever dreamt of being.
With the stroke of a brush, I slather paint across my face.
The red pigment plastered on my cheeks blends with the tears that managed to escape.
Their curves have served as a stencil, yet I always seemed to color outside the lines.
Those streaks have been shakily drawn with a broken pencil, poorly decorated with worn-out brushes and blotchy paint.
I am torn and stained; my attempts at change have failed and proof of that is etched into my skin.
I do all I can to recreate their art, but I have yet to be satisfied, blindly chasing after a beauty that is out of reach.
I am envious.
I am bitter.
I am desperate to embody all they are, despite the first painting differing from the next.
Still, I am an unframed sketch in the gallery that receives nothing more than a glance, the one they all walk past.
Amina Radoncic (she/her) is a sixteen-year-old writer from Long Island, New York. She is a lover of classic literature, her favorite reads include To Kill a Mockingbird and Little Women. While she chooses to spend most of her time reading or writing, you can also find her watching history documentaries, listening to music ranging from Taylor Swift to Vivaldi, and spending time her dog.