I don't want you to know anything
I want someone else to tell you about
me,
when I'm gone.

And she wakes,
every morning
She rises and prepares
for a new fight
“Today will be better,
I will be stronger”
She whispers to herself
as she steps out into the world
but it’s all in vain today
She falls again and again
with once tender,
now bitter words
searing into her chest
She can’t stand, she can’t breathe
“Oh my world my love
Why have you abandoned me?”
She lets out in a rush of
red hot agony and
strife
And just like any other day
she runs home to realize
everything she comes to place her eyes upon
she sees through broken and tired eyes
there’s no safety, here.
And as quickly as the strike began
it ends
lay down
get some sleep
“Tomorrow will be better,
I will be stronger”

You made flowers grow under my bed
And in my  head
Where monsters used to hide.
You made tulips grow on my tongue,
Planted sunflowers in my lungs,
And violets in the bags under my eyes.
There are roses between my toes
And irises, growing in rows,
All down my spine.
You've made flowers grow, my dear,
In every corner of my mind.

There are centuries in your cells
And galaxies in your soul.
A thousand rivers run, rampant,
Through your bloodstream,
And there are worlds waiting to be discovered
In your ever widening eyes.
There are mountains in your bones
And flower beds grow on your tongue.
Your skull holds countless caves
I yearn to explore.
There are dinosaurs in your mind
And stardust in your lungs.
All I need to know is within you,dear
And I ache to learn.

Let's meet at the coffee shop
Let's laugh away the pain
Let's get high on sugar cubes
Let's have fun with the day
Let's stumble on the edge of the sidewalk
Let's trip over our feet
Let's race with children
Let's find some pizza to eat
Let's walk along the beach
Let's bury each other in sand
Let's wade in the water
Let's dry off in the light
Let's walk home together
Let's go to sleep
Let's meet at the coffee shop
I'll see you next week ^_+

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
I am assured by my loving mother as a child
I believe her because the beauty in everything flow’rs and flourishes
when you’re young
The world is yours to take, everyone is yours to meet, everything is yours to do;
and I believe her.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
My first friend at school proclaims,
and I believe them.
We’ve tackled ***** training and preschool, now onto the playground and phonics!
We run and run together, taking the world like we’ve
whispered once before;
and I believe them.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
The middle school test scores announce,
and I believe them.
Primary school is in the past and I’m ready for responsibility!
I put on makeup to feel pretty, care about my grades more than the teachers believe and flash my smile to the boys who spit “compliments” at my feet;
and I believe them.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
but.. I don’t believe them anymore.
I’ve gained just enough confidence to smile at everyone in the halls in case they are having a bad day.
Suddenly my youthful euphoric vision is graffitied with hateful words and violence.
I run and constantly chase the innocence of the world,
being surrounded by darkness.
My self esteem has hit an all time low. Why is the world this way?
My friends and I chase what we used to believe and end up in deep holes;
and I don’t believe them anymore.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
And it doesn’t matter.
I have lost all hope of finding that beauty.
My heart is an aching mess of “I love you”’s
But all I hear is “you are meaningless”
Slowly these phrases of deep hate sear into my soul
I hear them every day and every night
You are meaningless
You are not worthy
You could not possibly be good enough
Until I wake up one dismal morning to realize that I have been defined by the ones around me.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
..and enough!
Because even my friends who say I’m worth something turn around and sneer at others like they can’t too be loved.
Because while the world screams “I hate people” I whisper
“but I don’t”.
But that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things
because we’ll find someone who loves us, right?
No.
Our words between just us mean nothing if we spin around and
spit in others’ faces.

And we know we hurt because we’ve been hurt but we don’t stop, none of us stop.

I dream of a world that screams a vulnerable
“I love you”
out into the world instead of a pulsing
“I hate you”
And a world that remembers that we are all worthy of love and not only the kind that makes you blush.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
The phrase I’ve heard since I was in my mother’s gentle hold
can only mean so much when you think you’re crumpled.
Stashed away until you’re needed
always feeling so defeated
but the truth
not told enough
to our weakened souls
We are all worth more than the marigolds

I write on the tops of wooden desks,
press the tip of my pen deep into the wood
and scribble out inane hearts and Lee '15 and
dumb poetry that curls over the edges of the desk
on uneven lines like a disaster waiting to happen.

I scrawl words and designs
on the crimped edges of a TAZO tea packet,
crumpled in my pocket,
and rip the paper apart slowly,
watching the lines of pencil split and diverge
and never meet again.

I ink my fingers with expo and sharpie,
let the tips shine oily black in the light
then quickly press them
onto crisp printer paper, peel my fingers
off and count the dips of my identity
in the grooves of white and black.

I smear the side of my hand with black,
wipe charcoal on my forehead
as I sweat in dimly lit studios,
hunched over my stool and eyeing the x-acto knife
from where it lies on top of a box of glue sticks.
Beside me is a cup of black TAZO tea,
that has steeped for over 4 hours and is already
cold.

When I leave, it is past midnight,
but the sky is not dark yet because
even with only the light of the stars,
I can see sharpie on the flesh of my thumb,
and charcoal dust fills the crescents of my nails
and someone has probably already
crossed out my name on that desk in room 216
that I sit at for English,
and in my pocket there are 2 more packets of tea
that I need to drink because

it has been four hours,
and my tea is already cold.