let these adolescent accounts pass
with tedious thoughts and feelings
you are not bound by the ribs of men;
remember
you were grown in the womb of women
despite the rain and wind
you breathed life and felt loved
these tiny caterpillar legs
took you so far
from small steps
to large leaps
you bit your nails in nervousness
and your plans became wings
these faint worries and tainted promises
held nothing in your way
please let your adolescent accounts pass
your tedious thoughts will wash away
small problems like these will be unseen
from your home in the sky

the nights you call lonely
are the nights i spend
reading and writing and drawing
and loving my own company
i enjoy dreaming of possibilities
and laying in complete silence
you see, my mind is so loud
louder than the party you're at tonight
and for me that is enough
i balance it out by being quiet,
by producing shambles of poetry
and endless jumbles of words
to try and understand
that it is okay to love the silence
and the mystery of who i am
you find yourself in bright lights
and loud music
i find myself in the dark
we have been afraid of our whole lives
it is the darkness and the silence
that make you so scared of us
but we are simply introverts
trying to fit into a world made for you
while you are dancing your heart out
ours are pounding in pride
as we proofread our writing for the 100th time
your open arms and our open minds
embrace in harmony
you see, i started writing us instead of me
because i know i am not alone
on these nights you call lonely
i call lovely

we waited
fingers trembling,
trying to remember
the way we felt
before we felt nothing
memories of feelings
we never told each other
trapped under books
and strings and a paper world
locked behind doors
of anxiety and anguish
fingers trembling,
we waited

the busy streets of new york city
never brought a ring to my ear
i silently ordered a tea
with milk and no sugars
by pointing to it on the menu
the phone never rang
and the only conversation i had
was with myself
a loud mind and soul
mixed with a voice box
but no voice

nobody knows of thunder
but the threat of lightning
we didn't fall in awe of the sky
or talk loudly over pouring rain
our voices felt lonely
isolated in this atmosphere
white paper stayed blank
and i know i wanted to write
but i could not hear my thoughts
over the silence that loomed overhead

a world filled with noise
and expression and love
will never win in the fight
against silence
for ultimately it is in silence
that we blossom and make sound

i'm not the rebound
when your conversation goes slow
my reply will satisfy you
the first time
but when my loneliness
becomes six messages in a row
each one more excited after the other
your vision starts to deteriorate
and you become blind to this gaping hole
on the verge of becoming a cavity
an auditorium sits in my mind
i listen to myself
go on and on about useless information
you once wanted to hear
the late night shows were always popular
to people who didn't listen
but rather wanted a night out
and the applause was customary
but you never felt the ambience
a thousand words gave off
as i sit at my desk
and transfer these thoughts into magic
six messages become one word
lonely
writing is hard, i keep deleting my thoughts
on paper i am limitless
conversation flows fast
and i am proud to message myself six times
and get six responses of the same excitement
the magic helps me see better
i love the auditorium that is my mind
the night shows are so popular
i took time to listen to myself
and clap for everything i am saying
because i give myself the chills
using words from seemingly useless information
lonely became lovely
and suddenly i was whole again
lonely stopped looming
and lovely was the name i gave myself
so when your conversation goes slow
and i stop messaging you
i am in my own auditorium
giving myself the attention and love
you forgot existed

teach her to love herself
and grow peacefully
in a garden full of thorns.
provide to her an education
and a strength that can move mountains.
and lastly give her freedom,
let her see the world through different eyes,
for loving and living and breathing
are amongst the small simplicities
of her existence that will make
the world beautiful and new again.

i sit in front of flowers
and wait for them to open up
in hopes of one day
learning from them
and doing the same,

i do this because
flowers are living
and i want to live again too
so please give them water
and light and teach them
how to live
not only for others
but for themselves.