I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm an alcoholic.
I'm 15 and I've been smoking cigarettes for
a year.
I'm 15 and I've been with more boys then I can count on one hand.
I'm 15 and my preexisting anxiety and depression are becoming too much for me.
I'm 15 and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 6.
I want to be 6 when I swore I'd never touch a cigarette in my life.
I want to be 6 when I didn't even know what anxiety was.
I want to be 6 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 28.
I want to be 28 with a man who appreciates my flaws and loves me no matter what.
I want to be 28 drinking a glass of wine or two at dinner, but no more.
I want to be 28 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm scared.
I'm 15 and I'm scared because I'll never be 6 again, and I'm scared that I might not make it 28.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be.

I gave him my heart,
I thought we could share,
But now he's got two hearts,
While my chest is left bare.

I want to mark my skin
like the ever-stained hem of the sleeves
that lick my knuckles like the sea foam
of a southern beach.

I want each pore to be filled
with the same heaviness that each streak
of watered-down mascara holds
as it lingers on the ends of my worn-out shirt sleeves.

Every line must mirror the soul
trapped in the blackened rivers
that forever run parallel to each other.

The curves crafted by the needle
will sway with same helium
he fills my chest with;

the crosses and dots will pack
the kisses he planted tenderly on my lips.

My first tattoo must be more than ink,
it must be heart.

I don't belong to anyone
I belong to the earth and the skies
And leap year's missing days
I belong to storms and thunders growl
To the stars and the moon
And broken birds' still beating hearts
I am a child of light and shadow
I belong to nothing and no one
I will never belong to them
I will never belong at all

Falen:
As you move through this life and this world
you change things slightly
you leave marks behind
However small & in return
Life and travel leaves marks on you
most of the time, those marks - on your body
or your heart - are beautiful
Often though, they hurt
                            Wolf:
We always seem to leave impressions
picking up our scars and beauty marks
along the way, hoping to do more good than
wrong, and maybe find love on our paths
the world is a vampire.....bleeding us
but also an oyster..feeding our souls
                      Falen:
In order to be, you must do.
All great things start from that one adventure, that one dream, that one idea, that one step.
To adventure is to find yourself whole, to have a story at the end of this all.
The places you see, the things you make, the people you meet will fuel you forever.
Choose to see beauty where others see none and strive for greatness
                                  Wolf:
Have the courage to follow your dreams
and to follow your heart
choose wisdom over folly, but never forget
how to enjoy yourself..and to respect and love others
be assertive while unobtrusive....
and learn all you can
life is a journey. we must always keep moving forward
remembering the past, but leaving it where it belongs
live each day as if it were your last
one day you will be right
                      Falen:
Not all wanders are lost.
We lust after traveling the world
we just want to find a beautiful place and get lost in it,
we want to discover something new
we want to feel & be free
                 Wolf:
It's the gypsy spirit in us all
keeping us on the road
and unfettered to hermitage
ensuring that we live and breathe
with awe and wonder
                    Falen:
I've got wanderlust in my veins
I was born to  live and I live to regret nothing
I'm in love with cities i've never been to
and i'm in love with people i've never meet
                   Wolf:
Gypsy blooded to the end

But cry for Sandy Hook
Paris
Cry for those yet to die
At this time of peace that we call Christmas
Yes, weep the bitter tears
Shed by mothers, father's, brothers and sisters
Weep because in this new world of peace
The tears you weep of bitter salt
Might well be the tears you weep for you

All of my dance life people told me how I would never make it
How i'm not good enough
How I don't have a dancer body
How i'm not graceful enough
But I didn't care what others thought
Dance was my escape
Dancing was all I cared about
It was all I could think about
Their words and the struggle I had to go through only made me stronger as a dancer
It made me who I am today
A  BLACK  BALLERINA
And I stand for every other black ballerina out there
- Your weakness can be your  greatest  *strength