There are boys that cry,
There are girls who have dry eyes.

There are boys that dance or play volleyball,
There are girls that wrestle or play football.

There are boys who drive VW Bugs,
There are girls that drive trucks.

There are boys that bake,
There are girls that shred.

There are boys that like the Notebook,
There are girls that like Transformers.

There are boys that are romantics at heart, looking for love,
There are girls that aren't into flowers or love songs.

There are boys with hair to their knees,
There are girls with shaved heads.

There are boys with diaries and journals full of memories,
There are girls who have no desire to write down all the details.

There are boys with names like Aubry,
There are girls with names like Sam.

There are boys with insecurities about their bodies,
There are girls who don't weigh themselves ever.

There are boys with eating disorders,
There are girls who work out for the ideal 6 pack.

There are boys that prep endlessly for a date,
There are girls who take 5 minutes to get out the door.

There are tidy, neat boys,
There are messy, whirlwind girls.

There are boys in dresses,
There are girls in baggy jeans and a pullover.

There are boys who shop endlessly,
There are girls who can't stand the mall.

There are boys that talk about their emotions,
There are girls who would rather not.

There are boys that look after the kids,
There are girls that work full-time.

There are boys who are nurses,
There are girls who are engineers.

There are boys who cook,
There are girls that change the oil in the car.

There are boys who are complacent and subordinate,
There are girls who are dominant and overpowering.

There are boys with no desire to get it in on the first date,
And there are some girls who wouldn't mind if they do.


And those are all okay. Gender stereotyping only limits what you can and can't do. Let the boys cry and write poetry and eat chocolate when they're sad and talk about their feelings. Let the girls be aggressive and wrestle their buddies and play ball and drive sports cars. Let people do as they please. You're born as you a are, you can't decide what gender you are. You can decide what you do with your gender though, or rather what it won't keep you from doing. Your gender is only an aspect of who you are, don't let it dictate your actions to appease a society that has deemed what is and is not okay for you to do simply because you're either a guy or girl.

There are boys and girls that can grow up to be what they please, do as they wish and speak as they will. Don't be the one to tell them otherwise.

As a little girl, my mother and father would drive around while smoking in the car, with the window rolled down, as I would roll up the ends of my sleeves clenching them towards my nose to be rid of the smell I have never liked.

I believed that when my parents would smoke around me, I was a smoker too. I had had the scent of a smoker too. But when I was with you, it was different.

That night, not caring how much I hated those sticks of paper as a child, I would watch you put it in your mouth and on your lips, inhaling it until you couldn't any further.  I silently sat in the backseat admiring how you would slowly inhale and exhale the toxic fumes it gave off.

That night, I went home.
I walked in through my back door.
I slid my shoes off and tiptoed toward my bedroom.
I passed my parents' room, witnessing them sound asleep next to each other, peacefully.
I took off my old grey sweatshirt and inhaled slowly, the smell of your secondhand smoke, and smiled.
Because it was yours.

I hated those sticks of paper full of toxic fumes.
I hated the smell of those sticks of paper full of toxic fumes.
Now, myself, I am one of those sticks of paper full of toxic fumes.
We both have touched your pink, chapped lips, got used, and are now thrown away.

My jobs not great but its money
I don't need a girl but wish someone would love me
Tough love hard thoughts to cope with
Bad choice tough decisions
Part of taking control had enough
The rain is my weather makes things better
Thankful and overall growing  up
Even if life is more than showing up
Not caring staring off in the distant
Feeling numb being resistant
Consumed by anxiety hard to breathe
I know dreams shared them
Even if no one cared for them
Life lesson learned time already served
You chose less that's what you deserve

smoking is bad*
preaches the teacher
as he bites his nails
in anticipation
of his next
cigarette.

I'm sorry you had to steal
what was already freely given.
I hope your heart never burns
like mine did the day I wrote that.
I give to you freely
what you honestly deserve,
that is a second chance,
and a word of advice.
Give from yourself,
no gift can ever be poorly graded.