You have the soul of a lion
Buried deep beneath lessons
Of inferiority and knowing your place
They've told you where you belong
How you're meant to be
But they're wrong

Deep inside you is a predator
Itching for you to see
See the fire in your eyes
Or feel the sharpness of your teeth and tongue
You may not have the mane you want
But you have a mane of fire
Burning from your soul
Pushing free from your skin

No man can stand a lion
You are more powerful than your body
More important than their words
You're the king of the Savannah
And the king of your heart
All you need to do
Is find your roar

When times get hard,
When times get rough.
When times get stressful,
You need to be tough.

You need to stand tall,
Be sure to stand your ground.
Make sure to smile,
To brighten the world around.

No matter what you go through,
You will never be alone.
Find that single light in the darkness,
And don't let your heart be stone.

You will one day make it,
Right out of the sorrow.
Live as if you were dying,
And won't make it to tomorrow.

Once a year on All Hallows’ Eve we wear our masks with pride,
but masks aren’t just for Halloween, we use our masks to hide.
We fool ourselves by thinking we don’t wear them all the time,
but all the things that we conceal each day should be a crime.
Society has turned against us and created this beauty brawl.
They taught us if it’s not obvious, it’s not beautiful at all.
They told us to use make up and to cover up our scars,
but how can we be beautiful if we’re covering who we are?
Some men may want a woman who is beautiful inside,
then turn around and pick the most overt beauty in sight.
Some women say they want a man who’s open, honest and real,
but turn around and pick vampires who don’t know how to feel.
It seems no one is truthful with the things they want the most.
It’s like we all just hide so much we’re practically living ghosts.
We live in a world where beauty is one of our greatest tasks,
but how do we know if we’re beautiful if we never take off our masks?

imagine having
to walk through a fire
alone

somehow mornings spent
with you in my arms
breeds a different kind of light
swimming through the blinds
dancing on our skin

ships on rocky seas
shadows in your sheets
In your dreams

is that how it felt
before you had me
is that what still finds you
sometimes
on dark nights in my arms

i forgot to close the window last night
but no rain was forecast -

i wipe the water from your soft skin
.

We were stuck all night
in quicksand light
and talked for fifty three tequila
hours, from bench to bar, to
dusk lit park, to the rust and arch
of the Golden Gate Bridge—
death watched us from
windowsill alleyways, between drying
sheets and shirts, and men’s
underwear, while life
climbed down the fire escapes
to greet us.
You smiled, with your eyes—
illuminating the still
second hands of streets clocks,
and the whole
infinity of Time between.
We lit cigarettes in pedicabs
unspeaking, vibrating mind
telepathy at midnight between
imaginary African angels.
And your smell reminded
me of an art lined fireplace
I once knew in Buffalo, with no fire
burning, but a window lighted
neighbor *******, while
the Main Street sirens howled.
And we don’t know each other
anymore, but
I still remember the You,
who broke down crying
in a light green kitchen, trembling
before a dirtied stovetop, and
ending on a bed—
missing a life
you couldn’t remember

It’s obvious that I look at you
and see perfection; even where
there is none, even where
your ugly is. I know that’s why
I hear from you whenever you
feel rejected. Ultimately, you’re
going to find the door again
because you’re looking for
someone a little harder to tame,
and I’m going to end up the
rejected one who can’t seem
to understand why an outpour
of care isn’t enough for you to
stay with me. You call and your
apology is the meekest I’ve
seen, but I run to you faster
than I’ve run before because
it’s you. It’s you. It’s you. I want
to call you selfish but I forgive
you for it before the word makes
it past my mouth. I’m always so
happy to see you that I forget
to ask you to please let me go.

You asked me, mother, why I only ate six seeds, then,
and I didn’t know what to say, way back when.
Why six seeds?
Because I love the places living things grow,
but I love more the home of lifeless bones.

Why six seeds?
Because I love the summer breeze,
but I love more the falling leaves.

Why six seeds?
Because I love the blue skies,
but I love more the things that died.

Why six seeds?
Because I love you, mother,
but I love more my broken lover.

Why six seeds?
Because I love the echoes of that distant shore,
but I love my freedom so much more.