For every girl who was a "*****"
    because she said no to a boy;
For every girl who was a "****"
    because she said yes.

For every girl who was "asking for it"
    because she wore a short skirt;
For every girl who was a "*****"
    because she wore a long one.

For every girl who was a "challenge"
    because she liked other girls;
For every girl who was "easy"
    because she liked both.

For every girl who was "fat"
    because she had dessert;
For every girl who was "anorexic"
    because she didn't.

For every girl who was "insecure"
    because she wore make-up;
For every girl who was "ugly"
    because she didn't.

For every girl who smiled
    because she thought she was pretty;
For every girl who cried
    because she was told she wasn't:  

Here’s to you.

one.

    When she cries herself to sleep
    six out of seven nights a week you must
    say nothing. You must simply take
    her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
    pale cheeks and wait for her to
    slumber at the sound of your heart.

two.

    On the days where she wishes she
    were part of the stars, tell her
    no. Tell her that there are too many
    lights in the sky and that just one
    would be forgotten the moment you looked
    away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
    the way she is: completely human.

three.

     Don't let her think about the scars
     that no one but her can see. If she
     says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
     know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
     But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
     must be the one to do it herself, and you
     merely are there to quietly encourage her.

four.

     Read her poetry (even if you are
     not a poet), the kind that uses
     flowery words and compares girls to
     the moon; the kind that you will
     rewrite for her. Make her a warrior.
     Make her a goddess with eyes like a
     wolf's and a smile like a tiger's.

five.

     Laugh with her the first thing in
     the morning and the last thing before
     you fall asleep. Tell her cheap puns
     that you've been thinking of for weeks.
     And when she smiles - the type of smile
     that could bring you to your knees if
     you aren't careful - know that for the
     moment, she's yours. She is whole.

six.

    Love her. Love her like a fish loves
    the sea or a bird loves the sky. Love
    her in the way that your heart feels like
    it's going to burst at any moment every
    time it beats. Love her skin and the way
    it feels against your own, soft and warm
    and utterly flawless. Love her for the way
    her voice trembles when she can't keep it
    together anymore and love her when she
    holds onto you as if you were the only
    thing that was keeping her alive.

seven.**

     Love her, because some days she just can't do it herself.

When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.

Can you tell me how to forget you....

Woman. Man's mystery.
Soft as feather falling through mist,
In need of something that isn't.
I keep forgetting
That I'm rarely the reason for
Whether you rain or shine.

I am the rock you hide under
While the deluge pounds.
I am the rock you rest upon when
Soaking up the sun.
I am the rock you recognize
As last milestone before home.

Deep inside the eye of your storm
You blame me as little
For anything
As you'd blame any other rock
For something.
I'm just there.
Whatever hits you
Hits me.

The pen is mightier
When you're bored.

When at roadside stands
I see a little mag of poetry
can't help mutter two words

lapis lazuli

Must have brought it a poet like him
lover of letters dealer of dreams
drunk in the elixir of emotion
added a drop more to the spilling ocean!

In the vastness grew in one nook
bearded youth with poetic look
his words tattered on the canvas a rag
bringing this world one little mag!

There wasn't a reader an eye to see
the poet's journal sold for free
he carried them bagful if could find
ears willing a discerning mind!

Then they shrunk the hopes high soared
wings broken the bard was floored
in the desert sands lay dried poetry
dying unprized lapis lazuli!

No question asked nor rose a frown
a wasted poet was the known verdict
he put his pen forever down
till breathed his last a drug addict!