We all grew into our ears and our teeth
Our opinions and our feet
Our clothes and chubby cheeks
We grew out of our music tastes
And other peoples mouths
Learned what it was like to love and be loved
Learned what hate looks like
What scars on hearts instead of arms looked like
We grew out our colored hair
And washed career dreams like astronaut and superhero
Down the drain
With someone else's sweat
Got used to sleeping in someone else's bed
Burned our memories of them
We grew into our faces
And out of our blind faith
We lead more then we follow
We fall in love with the concept of tomorrow
We learn the ability to bully instead of being bullied
And finally learn to rise above it all
We learned where we come from cannot change
But we can
We learned the city isn't always beautiful
That there are problems and trauma in silence
That sometimes the most peaceful thing you can do is scream until it makes sense to you

Am I just a wheel?
Consuming meals?
A speck in blue sea?
Bound by what I see?
Life amongst trees?
Breathing means free?

Am I my beliefs?
The truth I seek?
Flag of a country?
Defined by currency?
A liability?
Part of society?

Am I what you see?
The way you judge me?
The values you pick?
First impressions stick?
Norm defined by you?
Do I dare to be rude?

No...

I am who I choose.
I fill my own shoes.
I win when I lose.
I create my own views.
I see black beyond blue.
I pick me over you.

Who are we?
I am me.
Who are we?
Depends on you.

Today I wrote a poem
It took me five minutes
It was short,
A little choppy,
And pretty irrational,
But people really seemed to like it.
It got so many comments
And an encouraging amount of favorites.

So I decided to write another one.

This one took me two days
I poured my heart and soul into it,
And then set it free to start it’s life of internet fame
Only this time,
The poem got two likes
And no comments.

I guess people don’t like looking at my soul
That’s okay.
I’ll keep putting it on display anyway
Because maybe someone will like it
And then maybe they’ll comment on it

I don’t like waiting, but I will
Because I know that souls are hard to look at
When I take five minutes
To jot down a thought,
It’s so simple
But my heart and soul are much more complicated.

So take your time
Like it or don’t
But I’ll be happy, because
The most genuine form of writing is when you write to yourself.

I am the quiet poet
I draw my silk from
            the writhing aurora borealis
                        in the frozen sky
            and twist its ethereal light into dripping ink
            still wet on the page
You think you know me?
            you don't know me.

I am the serene night sky
                        and the boiling hot stars
I am the tempestuous seas
                        and the playful shallow shores
I am the relentless scorching desert
            and the soft smooth tides of sand

I was a prodigy, a freak
            I came into this world
with a pen in my pudgy little fingers
and a notebook clutched to my chest
I watch
as diamond rings fall like rain
onto the fourth fingers of my peers
            imprisoning them
but my female ancestors slew dragons
            I am free
            I will always be free
                        no man can handle me anyway

I am a captivated student
            of the authors and poets before me
books are my haven, my lovers, my dreams, my life
I am not human
Arms open, eyes shut, head to the sky
            I am but a channel
for the flow of the universe.