Please stop calling me nice.
I am not nice.
I will not be contained to a single word,
When my bones are built from metaphors
And my lips leak similes.
I am a fireball of emotion, splitting trees and men in two with my passion for my art.
I am a slurry of terror, creeping up on you at night that curls your toes right before you fall asleep.
I am not nice, I am anything but
I am alive with the summer heat that burns in my eyes and the sunlight that flows through my ribcage.
I am a warrior, a fighter, a solider in disguise.
I am the moon that hides it face in the day, only to showcase it's purity in the night.
I am the stiff wind that knocks the shallow air out of your lungs on a cold, January morning.
I am the tick, tick, tick of the buzzer right before its majestic song.
I am the obscene, the extraordinary, the menacing things in life.
I am not confined by a single word.
I
am
not
nice.

In the back kitchen you'll find
two boys scrubbing dishes.
One loud mouthed and lanky;
the other stout with broken English.

Amongst soap suds and grime,
clothed in long black aprons,
these two teens share a bond
stronger than mugs of ceramic.

Though the mason jars may chip
and hot dinner plates burn their fingers,
minimum wage is the thing
that keeps this quirky pair together.

And they dance around the kitchen
in those slip resistant sketchers
balancing bowls, pots, and pans.
Graceful as expert choreographers.

You are my favorite passenger
my driver through tired eyes

You are my Nebraska rest stop lover
and the morning kiss in the tent.

You make my lips curl to a smile
and dance along your face.

You are the lime in my corona
and the clank to my bottle.

You are not my smores poptart
more like my layered dip

You're my backseat snoozer
and my cutest cuddle duddle

My late night fisherman
and my serving counterpart

You're my badlands baby cakes

You fill up my heart

You fill up my heart

I know I'm running out of time
fear has stolen what is mine
legs stuck, unable to move
too many roads in life, which one to choose?
2 steps forward , 5 steps back
my life's purpose is under attack
I hate defeat, can't stand to lose
**** this mid twenties blues

Take care of her.
Feed her when she's hungry.
Let her rest when she's tired.
Give her comfort when she's weary.
Love her when she feels unloved.
Extend her grace when she thinks she is unworthy.
Encourage her when she worries about failure.
Tell her she's beautiful when she can't see or feel it.
Believe in her when she loses sight of her vision.
Show her kindness when she starts to tear herself down.
Take her for a walk when she wants to isolate.
Dance with her when her mind is flooded with chaos.
Sing her songs when words no longer make sense to her.
Be the safe place she can run to when she needs to retreat.
Offer her your shoulder when she needs to cry.
Pull her in tight when she needs a warm embrace.
Please take care of her.
She is you.

college is suffocating.
chained by assignments due tomorrow.
eyelids heavy from five AM shifts
humans glued to screens
bus rides with thoughts unshared
world unexplored
stress high
falling deeper in debt
excited for this sumemr
when the sequioas scoop me up
swallow me whole
and set me free