her hair is golden like spun silk, cascading down her back;
a waterfall; an endless ocean of heavenly light igniting in the sunshine,
sparking around her head and intermingling with the summer air

her hands are stretched skyward as though trying to catch the sun
she twirls across the carpet, her bare feet pale in stark contrast to the dark floor
never once does she miss a step
her body, the image of grace and poise, confident in this moment against the baby blue walls

a brilliant melody reaches our ears and she pauses, then rushes toward the source of lyrical beauty
suddenly, she is flying past me,
down staircases,
across narrow halls,
through wooden doorways,
and into the arms of another.

her face, tragically beautiful, she smiles
and for me, there is nothing else in the world but the symphony that is her laugh
the sound envelopes me in a euphoric embrace and i want to cry

my mind tells me that my feelings are hopeless and her perfection puts her far out of my reach

and it is in that moment that I realize I have been touched by an angel.

when i was just a little girl
mama said, "you're the prettiest girl in the world"
and at four years old, sitting with a mirror
i batted my big green eyes, and simply believed her
for this was just something that i'd always been told
it was a fact of the world that i was beautiful

six years old, with long, blonde curls
and mama said, "you're the prettiest girl in the world"
i remembered the phrase, but doubted her words
i had no front teeth, and a voice too soft to be heard
but it must've been true, 'cause mama's don't lie
but how could it be that the prettiest girl would be so shy?

eight years old, with a baseball cap on my head
"you're the prettiest girl in the world," mama said
i looked down at my soccer jersey and cleats
"if i'm so pretty how come i have such big feet?"
but mama didn't miss a beat, she was so smart
she said, "you're prettiness shines through your great big heart"

ten years old, with a notebook and a pencil full of lead
"you're the prettiest girl in the world," mama said
i barely heard the words, and decided i was fat
pretty girls like shopping, not books and baseball bats
and the pretty girls don't need to constantly be reading
because when you see a pretty boy, a pretty girl is leading

twelve years old, and wishing i was dead
"you're the prettiest girl in the world," mama said
i knew it was a lie, and i was severely ******
if i'm so pretty then what are all these ugly scars left on my wrist?
but i nodded to my mother, and told her that i knew
maybe i was dying, but i wouldn't bring mom down, too

fourteen years old, lying in my bed
"you're the prettiest girl in the world," mama said
i knew it was a lie, but i'd made my peace with that
i'd always be a little ugly, i'd always be a little fat
i didn't look like a model, but that was okay
i never would be pretty, but who cares, anyways?

now i'm fifteen, and i'm starting to be okay
"you're the prettiest girl in the world" is what mama will say
i know i'm not the prettiest, but more importantly, i'm kind
real beauty isn't in the face, real beauty's in the mind
i'm learning to accept the hand that i've been dealt
and i'm starting to heal my heart after all the pain i've felt

And my friends are delicate even with steel breast plates and glass eyes that dazzle on nights where the moon comes out to join us.

And my friends wear crowns to show their worth but others forget that it tears into their skin making them bleed from beaten thoughts and overactive brains.

And my friends don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Their hearts are trapped in rib cages beating melancholy tunes into themselves when life is bleak and time grows long.

And my friends can love into death the beauty of hands and flowers- the world on their shoulders and the photographs in their skulls breed truth and hope in people’s good intent and adventure.

And my friends are a whole other universe strung with the same thread that can’t break because their soil is strong and their garden nourishes all.

And my friends are timeless, classic, radical souls that leave your house painting crooked and your eyes wide.

And my friends don’t know that. But now they do.

i simultaneously long for life and death
i want to **** myself, but don't want to die
i want to disappear into a nothingness
i want to float up into the sky
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

in crowds, i get panicked and weepy
alone, i suffocate on the floor
i belong to no person or thing or place
and i fall to pieces behind that bedroom door
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

sometimes, i'm just teeming with emotion
the pain and the love and the best and the worst
all of the feelings get twisted together
until i'm sure that i'm going to burst
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

on the contrary, sometimes i feel numb
i'm immune to the pain of this place
i can't feel the good or the bad or ugly
it's amazing what you can hide behind a happy face
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

i constantly feel like i'm empty
and that i've got nothing left to give
i feel like i'm broken and done for
and that there's no reason for me to live
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

i write suicide notes in my free time
and count the number of ways i could do it
and hide pills away in the drawers of my dresser
like my own little "how-to" death kit
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

i keep razors and knives in my bookcase
i have methodically placed lines on my wrist
i long for the pain and the blood that it brings
i flirt with the demon of death, and then give it a kiss
     (but maybe that's just a teenager thing)

i live in a world of pain and anxiety
in constant fear of the people that i'm supposed to love
i think that i want to die, but what is want is to be free
depression's the cage, and i am the dove

but i guess that must be a teenager thing.

she had emerald eyes and messy hair
we ran around town dishing out dares
we broke the law twice that night
as we danced in the streets looking for a fight
i had dorky glasses, and her hair matched her name
we treated our lives like one big game
we glided through the air on playground swings
for a second i believed that we both had wings
we drew funny faces on a concrete wall
and traded our shirts outside the church hall
we had a thousand adventures that started at dusk
and ended when we woke up in her room smelling like musk
being in her presence gave me an electric shock
with her there was no time, no hours on the clock
she lit up my life with on single night
and then the very next day she had to take flight
i'll always remember the weekend we shared
i just wish that my broken heart could have been spared
she gave me adventure in a town such as this
my only regret is denying her that goodbye kiss