people see what they want to see
and maybe it’s a weakness you’ve grown out of
maybe it’s a past you’ve shed like second skin
people will hold on to things you’ve let go of
so you’ve got to love yourself
enough to make up for the ones who spite you
enough to tell yourself you’ve done a good job
when your head hits the pillow at night
people will say things intended to cut you and leave you with open wounds
you are not the mistakes you’ve made-
do not let them convince you otherwise

I don't know if I can speak
Or write
Without cursing anymore
****.

If the trees would speak,
They’d tell me to leave,
To find my roots,
Grow up to the clouds,
And find my peace.