Someday you’ll love you.
From the sparkle in your eye,
To the pitch of your laugh,
Even the color of your hair.

You will love every part,
From every wrinkle,
To every crinkle,
Every part of you.

But they will try to tear you down,
To make you frown,
To make you think you’re not worth it.

But darling you listen to me.

From the way you walk,
To the way you talk,
You will be mocked,
But don’t you listen.

From your weight,
To your height,
You are all wonderful to me.

Maybe one day you’ll see,
The beauty I see.
The way you were made,
So beautifully.

But until then,
Do not forget,
On how true beauty,
Comes from within.

I am a rose growing from the concrete.
Already birthed into negativity,
just finding a way to bloom in hard times.
Harder than concrete could ever be.
So why do you want to hurt me?
I've already struggled.
No need to throw a stone at an innocent rose.
I've already cried.
No need to step on me.
Please don't hurt me anymore.
You'll crush a beautiful rose who made herself grow from the water of her fighting will.
My demise belongs to me,
not a person looking for an easy victim.
I'm the only rose left on this sidewalk.
All the others rotted in the sun,
Or got caught up in life's daily stampede.
But me,
I lived to plant my seed.
So leave me be,
Don't even pluck my petals,
Or stand too close.
Just leave me alone to my peace,
nestled into the grooves of the concrete to which I was born.

They say energy cannot be created or destroyed,
simply poured out into another person.
A shared cycled of movement.

Keep it kinetic,
or it'll never reach its potential.

It is to be ..
Shared wisely -
Never to be graced upon forces darker than your own.
Valued highly -
Gifted upon the likes of a throne.
And held tightly-
Where you can feel it down to your bone.

Energy is a man's life force.
The power behind every thought & action,
bringing forth like energy-
in the law of attraction.

Is self love a figment of my imagination?
Because all I feel is self hatred.
I look in the mirror everyday disgusted with who I've become,
Not because I think I'm ugly
But because I think I'm beneath the lowest of ****.

I remember the joys of childhood,
When even the bad days turned good.
From the times when I was drinking from the water hose,
To running around the house wearing
my Rocawear clothes.

I remember smiling at the sun.
And laughing while running away from my brother's bb gun.

I remember gleefully swimming in my pool,
To being daddy's helper carrying his tools.

I remember the simplicity of life,
Without the pain and the strife.
When my only worry was to catch the ice cream man in the nick of time -
When I knew the jonas brothers songs down to every rhyme -

I remember winning my very first track meet.
My happiness radiating like gold from my skin in the heat.

I remember happiness.
The most beautiful feeling welling up inside of my former self,
As though I would spontaneously combust if I wasn't myself.
But those are all just memories,
seemingly from a past life that has been reduced down to a reverie.

I want to feel true happiness again flowing inside of me,
but until then all I can do is plea.

Its a process slower than I'd like,
much like a young girl learning how to ride her very first bike.

Healing.

I can feel the hope wiggle in my toes,
though my head is still filled with a plague of darkness drowning in my woes.

Healing.

I can't see light at the end of the tunnel just yet,
but I can feel its warmth trying to find my hardened silhoutte,

It's called healing.
The process of new growth after something has been broken down,
much like my spirit beaten to the ground.
But I have to keep pushing,
living for a brighter day.
Hopefully all this will mean something,
even if it means nothing til the next life,
A place where my body and my mind aren't in constant strife.

I've began the healing process,
even if the finish line is still far away.
But all I can do is hope for a brighter day.