No one helped me get into
East Hills High School for the Arts though
Umi bought me
watercolor paint and one big canvas
What if I mess up? I had asked
Let it come the way it comes, Amal
she said
And I drew and painted
painted and drew
that whole summer before eighth grade
The day I had to go in for the interview
I carried my painting under my arm
It was almost my size, my height
and it rained
All those curved and straight lines
all those colors
all those truths
looked like they were crying
I still got into that school, though