Finding myself is a challenge I’ve yet to overcome,
A journey that will never end;
So why must I try so hard to create myself,
Twisting and molding when for nothing I bend?
I’ve been happy and sad and mad and calm,
I’ve gone with the flow and ridden the storm;
So after this I should know to stop pretending,
And be neither black nor white, cold or warm.
I am the one who cries at sad movies and laughs at bad jokes;
I am me, lover of music and nature, and that is enough.
I am the girl you made fun of and laughed with,
Weak on the inside but outside- tough.
While you judge and snicker, thinking what you will,
I will be busy away from you, creating myself, you’ll see-
With all the emotion, colors, sounds, scents, and experiences,
Hereafter I will be me.

If I have to go I’m glad I’m going this way,
I’m numb to love so I’m happy I feel the pain.
Everyone leaves me but I’m grateful you stayed,
I crawled all my life and you helped me to stand.
Tears mean nothing to me but I’m glad you care,
Blood won’t stop spilling but I’m happy you’re trying.
You’ve been my friend all along and I’m grateful you were,
This is a bittersweet farewell as I die by your hand.

Vicious cycles round and round
All as yet to be unwound
Dripping venom hatred be
After all just you can see
Pain revisits hurts you rend
Scars away you cannot send
Call my name for savior come
Perhaps you’ll find where you are from
Lost alone you wander far
Fallen angels your way they bar
Trapped of will none but your own
Drained of blood all skin and bone

Round, earthy tone beads, strung on a line
Pebble size, smooth, cool to the touch like new silk-
They inspire a sense of safety and nurturing,
As they should, a gift from a mother.
A crescent shaped moon, bronzy tarnished gold,
An energetic feeling, feelings of power and wisdom,
Also of peace, patience, and protection-
They come together in swirling lines across the surface,
Twisting and twirling- a dance of cool metal.
Hidden, between strung beads and moon
There rests an onyx bead.
Icy glossed, blood-red light within,
The hidden passion of fire,
Or is it love, hate?
Black and white, just as well.
Around my neck from the age of sixteen
With every glance in the mirror I see
A simple yet strong reminder of
Who I am,
What I stand for,
And my connection to nature and the elements,
But mostly to the earth.

To the dark Night of which I speak,
Of which I sing to;
The air around you I breathe
Hoping for a chance to catch your breath.
Notice me, speak unto mine soul;
Call for me, when only your voice I seek.
I long for your words, your smile and your touch;
When on my mind you are
I’m hoping on yours I am in return.
Do you notice me-
Walking by, glancing in your direction,
Too shy to say hello?
I’m wishing on your star,
Shining brightly in your Night,
Your inner light.

Everywhere is burning,
On ground - up high in trees;
I watch it all with joy
For such is beauty each year.
Fire flashing green,
Then flaring orange, yellow, red:
Embers are falling down around me,
Drifting, twirling, dancing.
Cold bites at my skin,
The air frosty and crisp:
Fire crunches under my feet
And fills the night with scent.
Alas, ‘tis not fire,
But leaves.

I am from spring nights,
the sight of meekly inquiring lightning bugs
and empowered lightning scarring the sky.
I am from snowy winters,
the feeling of air so crisp and frosty
with sparkling snowflakes racing down.
I'm from colored leaves in fall,
the scent of fragrant flowers in bloom
and trees tall and magically adorned.
I'm from summer days,
the sound of breaking waves on breaking hearts
with sandy beaches and twisting shells.
I come from the seasons,
the memories of the past and hopes for the future
all patched mismatched together is me.