Imagine having daughters
Trying to let them know
You trust them
Enough to let them make their own ruinous decisions
While keeping them close enough
So that the world doesn't
Touch them
Inappropriately
Imagine having daughters
Like small incisions in the heart

You're not the sun,
nor the moon

You're not the warm and fuzzy feeling
that keeps me awake at night

You're the needles
that scratch my skin

You're the feeling of
standing under rain for hours

You're happiness
in all the wrong places

And that's okay
because I am not the deliverer
of pretty words

What value is there
in a promise
fulfilled with ease

Compared to one
that finds its way
to you in shreds
on hands and knees

You spoke in whispers that night under the stars.
I can't remember what you said,
I just feel your head gently colliding with mine,
hear your laugh as you retreated back, apologizing.
I smell the detergent left in your thin clothes.
I recall your arms wrapped around my waist,
the tingling in my throat as I looked up into your dark features,
your green eyes focused on my lips, but never touching them.

I sense the burning in my torn knee from where my flesh hit the ground earlier that night,
and the sound of my sweet breath against the open wound to reduce the pain.
And again, your laugh, as you gloated over my klutzy behavior.

You didn't say anything significant.
No I love yous, no I can't live without yous, certainly no
you mean the world to mes.
So my ears only heard the summer crickets hiding in the bushes,
and again,
your warm laugh,
with my hands against your stomach
to  feel the hysteria run through your body,
ending its journey as it greeted the air.

That was enough for me.
I didn't need promising cliches to feel content.
Your hand wrapped in mine was enough,
enough for a few lonely evenings
to look back on the memory,
and still feel you with me.

But I still can't recall a word you said,
that night,
as you spoke whispers under the stars.

Note: This is a spoken word poem. Read aloud for best affect. Poem will read with a natural flow.*

Remember back when beauty was that little yellow flower?
And nobody picked it because they were afraid that the color would fade
So they just sat
And they stared
Silent
In awe
For hours at a time
The way that today I look at my reflection
But the awe has turned to agony
And I look in my eyes, and recoil
What used to be “Just fine” now causes inner turmoil
Isn’t that sad?
That flower got picked from its window box in the schoolyard
And just like we expected, life for it got hard
The flower scarred
Its pain written out on every single petal
And the petals, they faded
Like now natural beauty has become overrated
As the flower sits in a bouquet of hybrid roses
And those roses have thorns
Thorns that ***** and sting and poke
Like when you say, “Aw, c’mon, it was just a joke”
To that girl you called ugly ‘cause she dyed her hair and got braces
Trying to fit in with all the other faces
Isn’t that what society wants from us today?
To change and rearrange what God gave us
To fill ourselves with plastic because, according to the famous ones
That’s what makes life so fantastic
And Barbie isn’t our role model because she’s smart
Not ‘cause she’s a doctor and a vet and a scientist and probably a professor in art
But because she’s skinny
And if you put her proportions on a real girl
That girl would be in a hospital
Fighting anorexia while she gets another implant
Today it feels like we don’t stand a chance
Because they tell you that if you wanna make an impression
Just forget that yellow flower
And now, with every waking hour
I think about how I could be taller
Or have prettier hair
Maybe if I dyed it black or red or blonde then everyone would care
Maybe none of them would stare
Maybe I could finally live my life
Without everyone waiting to see if I can finally live up to the expectations
Because I can’t
I look in that mirror wondering if I can see what everyone else is wanting
Because once upon a time
I thought I was fine
I thought short hair was spunky
And dark eyes were lovely
It’s like I’ve been living a lie
Like Christmas time when you finally ask Mommy if Santa is fake
And she hesitates
And then she tells you yes
So I stare for hours and hours
I’m just like that flower
Now I’m broken and I’m plain
When did beauty become a game?
What’s ugly is the way kids hate themselves now
‘Cause of what the TV is telling us now
That we all need to learn how
To look like everyone else
Hate to burst your bubble that I can’t look like Paris or Nicki
(Spoiler alert: They’re fake)
Not unless you want me
Destroying myself
Because I refuse to be like everyone else
I just wanna get rid of the shame
That makes me blame myself for not being “pretty enough”
I just wanna be that flower
Whose beauty was natural and everyone watched for hours
Not needing to compare themselves to it
Because they all looked just as beautiful
And they knew it
So maybe some of us who are still sane, we can make a change
Show the next generation that beauty isn’t in what you gain
It’s when you remain the same
And maybe I can look in that mirror
Without any fear
And actually smile
And sit there awhile
And find beauty without a search
Maybe then there wouldn’t be so much hurt
Like when we see that yellow flower
Petals stretched toward the sun
Then we will know our job is done
And we have finally won