How lucky am I to have a warm bed to rest in every night as the seasons change.

How lucky am I to have the holidays to clean and prepare for.

How lucky am I to feel the weather as it is changing.

How lucky am I to be swept up in a busy schedule.

How lucky am I to have so much to look forward to.

How lucky am I to have people to share these moments with.

How lucky am I to be nervous.

How lucky am I to be sad.

How lucky am I to find myself in new situations.

How lucky am I to have far places to go.

How lucky am I to face challenges I can grow from.

How lucky am I to have a body that supports me.

How lucky am I to live when it is easy and it is hard.

How lucky am I to exist.

Closed mouths don’t get fed
Alright.
But if that’s the case,
why am I opening my mouth
and still starving?

Still waiting
for the next spoonful—
one that won’t leave lacerations
around my lips.

Some are born
with silver spoons.
I was not.
That’s why I’m here,
writing these words
for people
who are afraid to reach out.
But deserve healing anyway

They say,
“All you need to do is speak up.”
But they don’t say
you also need the right restaurant—
and a seat at the right table.
So let me finish this quote:
Closed mouths don’t get fed
But open ones still are put to bed

I wish I could have been there
To shield you from that pain,
The truth, too heavy to explain,
I won’t claim to understand, nor try to.

If I had a Time Machine,
I could have softened the blow,
So you wouldn’t have to face the unknown.
But we’re both only nineteen,
And the world would ask, what do you know?

Had I known the shadows would come,
I’d have found a way to make you stay,
So you wouldn’t be tossed like chewing gum.
But what can I say?
The things we know tomorrow,
We wish we knew today

If love’s just a game,
Who makes the rules?
Are we kings and queens,
Or are we jokers and fools?

I could lose over and over again,
Be made a mockery until the end,
And I’d still choose to shuffle the deck,
Rather than never be a player, a heart left unchecked.

This way of thinking might seem strange,
I once was a *****, a tool beneath your shoe,
But your love came and made me feel new,
Now I feel like an ace, a prize to arrange.

If you’re like me, who’s been frozen,
You’ll melt at the right one chosen.
His love could never be too much,
I find rapture in the slightest touch.

If love’s just a game, I’ll play it bold,
Giving warmth with no trace of cold.
Even if this gamble tears me apart,
There’s something divine in giving my heart

The room is thick like poured molasses
Broken only by lights and camera flashes
The reason for my birth is suddenly clear
The newest idol has arrived, a crowd draws near
When I enter a room, everyone stops to stare
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes
I was born to transfix the masses

When I sit alone,
Someone will ask, “Can I use this chair?”
Then carry it to another table
To laugh with friends over there—
Leaving me, still and silent,
Closed off like a clam.