Does it make me
Strange
To crave connection,
Does it make me
Weird
To demand respect.
Am i other
For asking for more
And expecting
To be treated
What I’m worth
And am I
Wrong
To see love
In such wild
Caricatures
That all prove
To be
Light
And smoke

Fame
Is a fickle fire
That fumes
At the sheerest whisper
Of applause
And flutters,
Snuffs out
At the mere suspicion
Of fault

Can we strive
For health,
Without being broken by it?
Letting foundation
Camouflage our pores
Until we disappear
Under the weight of beauty.
Can we look
To better ourselves
Without being bested
By perfection?
I yearn for truth
In pursuit of wellness
Without the guilt
Of validation
Haunting us into iniquity

Citrus sweet
And onion sharp,
Scents collected
In a cafe’s heart.
I wait alone
Looking for comfort
And sense camaraderie
At the cafe’s counter.
I say hello
And grab a treat
Realizing
How tender it is
To offer something to eat
When a heart is lonely
And emotions sore,
Looking for love
In food,
Whimsical
As a musician’s score

I am done
With captivity.
I am here to set you free.
No ammunition,
No inhibition
Just two hands,
A heart,
And steady legs
Weathered by the sea

It is a terror
To accept a love
So effortless
I fall
And the weight of this dream
Collapses into me,
Encompassing my passion
With possibilities
Never once discovered
Before

What a shame
It is
To be beautiful
But bold;
Making you
Exquisite art
Too unique
And foreign
To understand,
And discarded
Instead

Do not settle
For a storage bin
When you deserve
An exhibit
In the National gallery