I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please excuse the handwriting
Which may not be too clear.
But this afternoon by the lion's cage
I'm afraid I got too near.
And I'm writing these lines
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.

I see people giving in
to the bitterness of society
because they do not want to be like us
they do not want to feel.
they strip themselves from full emotion
and any abnormality
making them all the same.
when I see these people
I finally see
my value
my purpose
my worth,
my importance.
and how silly I have been
in denying their existence
when all this time
they have been standing right in front of me
waiting to be seen.

this is when my soul smiles

All you see is what's in front of you.
My melted brown eyes and messy brown hair to match.
You see the clothes touching the skin-
or better yet
the parts of me the clothes aren't touching.
What, you noticed my dimples when I smiled? And what do you hear?
Do you hear me howling when I laugh?
Do you hear my voice raise as I tell my story?
Listen more closely. Shh.
If you're quiet enough, you'll hear yelling.
Do you hear it?
It's me.
And if you look closer, you'll notice that there
are a hundred shards of shattered glass.
That's me too.
You didn't know that,
did you?
I'm breaking- slowly deteriorating before your very eyes
but you didn't notice- or you chose not to, at least.
I wish I were more like you.
I wish I could ignore the noise
and avoid looking at the broken pieces.
I wish I was as content as you are
knowing that I am ebbing away into nothing
slowly, but surely

this is not a love poem
this is a poem about you
you and only you
your reflection creates
a portrait of beauty

this is not a love poem
this is a poem about the self
do not ever neglect it
you will need it back one day

this is not a love poem
this is a poem about me
loving you

all of you