There is no wrong way to write poetry.
I have little interest for rules.
Poetry does not have rules.
My English teacher shows us stanzas, rhyme schemes,
Couplets, triplets, quatrains and quintets
And I stare into the space above her head.
When can I write free verse again?
I don't want to follow the rules.
I want to do what feels right.

The words don't want to
Flow out but the poetry
Flows out like water.

I invited you
But you stood me up and
time
passes
s l o w e r
When I'm alone

Scars,
Like fingerprints,
Like humans themselves,
Each miniscule but infinitely important.
So miniscule, but telling a story.
Each of us here on Earth
Tells a story and bears a scar
That tells a story also.

what if we changed the definition of beauty
to something actually beautiful
something more than your typical
blue eyes, blonde hair mold
what if the definition of 'beautiful'
meant every shape, size, and skin tone
what if every girl was beautiful too?
what if, in advertising,
we showed more diversity, pody positivity,
so that every girl loved her looks?
what if we changed the rules,
stopped going by the books,
and decided for ourselves what beauty is?
what if we changed it
to something actually beautiful
something more than your typical
blue-eyed, blonde-haired mold?
what if 'beautiful' meant
every size, shape, and skin tone
what if we decided for ourselves what beauty is?
what if, instead of body-shaming each other,
we would teach one another
the value of our bodies
that you are beautiful too

yesterday, two teenage boys in the street
stopped mowing their lawn to whistle at me.
it's kind of nice, being noticed, I guess,
to be seen
but at the same time,
I feel objectified,
like I'm meant to sit on a shelf and be pretty
like they're incapable of looking past my face and seeing me
I'm not a barbie doll.
I'm not a toy.
i'm just fourteen
when will you realize that, boys?