When you joke you sound so serious
And I never seem to get it until it’s too late

You like order and tradition
I listen to Christmas songs in July.

Our moods never seem to match
You seem to thinks that that’s just fine.

But I don’t understand.

I’m always worried, it seems,
That I’ll somehow let you down
And in doing so, I’ve succeeded.

I always do the best that I can
to look good for you
you complain, “it isn’t needed.”

You’re family only likes the ‘Normal’
Whatever that is
But I stick out like a sore thumb.

From my hair and it’s ever-changing colors,
To my jeans with their pictures and quotes,
...That are drawn on with sharpies...
and the paint stains that cover them from time to time!

Because of all of this, I worry.

Am I too weird?
Is my rainbow-like hair too odd?
Are my drawn on jeans ,
My crazy belly dancing skirts,
And pentagram necklaces,
Simply too strange?

What of my love of olives?
And how I ***** up my face when I think?
Do you not like how I spend hours on my computer,
Working on one picture (trying to make it just right)?

Or how, when I choose to color my art by hand,
I walk away with paint all over me (Even on my cheeks),
And an oddly proud grin plastered on my face?

I worry, and pace,
For days on end, at times,
Wondering if you really love me.

And when you finally see me,
The weird, colorful,  oddball that I am
You smile, and kiss me,
saying "i've missed you so much!"

And I know that I worried for nothing,
That you are different from your parents,
That our beliefs live together in harmony,
That you actually like the odd faces I make when I'm thinking
and the weird colors I dye my hair,
And that you really, truly love me—

Paint stains and all.

The soft glow of morning glistens off brilliant scales
As the stars that look upon the world wink slowly,
And fade into a sky that, as the light of day begins to pour over the land,
Paints itself in hues of gold and rosy pinks.

Shadows slowly shrink and new ones begin to form
As wings are spread to soak the fresh warmth of dawn.
For a moment in time, harmony overcomes the world,
And worries are left to drift away.

Breathing in deeply the scent of moist earth and tranquil sea air,
She stretches her new found wings,
And relishes the flushed dawn as it begins to fade,
Brightening into a cerulean that envies that of the sea.

This precipice, seen so many times in past dreams,
Now holds a place in her heart greater than any she has ever known;
She closes her eyes and listens to the whispers in the wind.

A song as ancient as the rock she lays upon,
Archaic and hauntingly beautiful,  
Begins to stir in the air and play anew,
As she takes flight for the very first time.

She is home; she is free.