You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

.

            In order to survive, we cling to all we know and understand.

                                              We label it reality

                      But knowledge and understanding are ambiguous

                                   That reality could really just be an

                                                             I
                                                               L
                                                            L
 ­                                                       U
        ­                                                     S
                                                               ­  I
                                                             O
                                                        N
     ­                                                                 ­                
                              All humans live with wrong assumptions

                                     For the sake of their own survival

You could put a bullet through my brain, and I'd still miss you in hell.

I lie all the time, but it's mostly to myself.

I can't give you
the world, the
stars, nor grant
all of your wishes.
But I can give you
my word when I say,
           my life is better
           knowing that you
           are a part of it.