A writer, aspiring poet,
constantly afraid that she’ll blow it.
A daughter, loving sister,
insecure that anyone could ever miss her.

A misfit, won’t ever quit,
pretends she doesn’t actually give a ****.
A poser, laughably mediocre,
she draws her originality from the ones before her.

A reckless forgiver, a generous spender,
hold her back and you’ll most definitely suffer.
A blunt speaker, a big dreamer,
bitterly honest because she couldn’t ever stand being known as a liar.

A level six sorceress, an RPG-er,
she’s a d20 that never manages to roll a high number.
A voice with many accents, a toolbox filled with talent,
she wants to voice the characters in a first-person shooter.


                                                       *

But mostly, she’s the girl
who overwaters flowers
because she feels bad for them.

Who dyes her hair bright colors
because she gets bored
and simply for the hell of it.

Who battled cancer for over a year
but can’t manage
to call herself a survivor.

Who wrote this poem
even though she thought
she didn’t have the words for it.