I know how hard it is to feel without being felt;
what it's like to look out a window and not see the beautiful view;
to only see yourself jumping.
I know what it is like to be the broken chair in disguise
that everyone thinks is just fine to sit on;
to be the broken egg fallen from the tree while all the sparrows fly.
I am the dandelion in the middle of the field of grass, yet I am the only **** picked.
The world is parachuting through clouds while I sky-dive, free-falling,
into the dirt.
Free, free, free to change anything...
But unable to cope with a thing out of place;
able to dream and do whatever you wish...
but unable to do anything.
I love you so much because you are my mirror;
I love you so much to help.
If you stare long enough at your own brilliance,
it will scar like the sun on your eyes,
and you will see its technicolor splotching
everywhere you look.
Know it is okay to cry but know when it is time to get up;
know it is okay to be sad but know when it has been enough.
You think you can't do it, but you do not know,
and I promise I know that you can.
You just need a hand to help you stand up.
And I hope that this poem can be that hand for you.
Or maybe it won't mean ****; I don't know.
But I know you're reading this and you're thinking,
what the hell does she know?
Look forward, not down, and be who you are
and do not give a ****.
The right people will love you because you will love yourself.
Develop your wingspan and refuse to flee;
fly and be free.
And you will soar into the sky and be as beautiful as you always wished.
Just remember to always come back down and give a hand to those on the ground.
And maybe write a poem.