She has
forest eyes
that you’ll
get lost
and
found in.

I want to fall for someone
who will break for me
who will let their stains spill everywhere
who will allow their eyes to pour up a glass
of the beautiful mess
that they are

Wrap up the love
you so madly give to others
and open it
for
yourself.

Learn to love your tears.
They are
falling
for
you.

I wish I could’ve warned you
about how heavy they can get
how they’ll refuse to leave
and instead
unpack in every room
they will pile up to the point
where you won’t be able to lift yourself up
you might think that the only way to survive
is to find a tool or two
one too many drinks
less food on the menu
any escape route that’ll drain you
but you’ll soon learn that
being empty
weighs you down just like them
thoughts
that’ll never stop trying
to devour you

I am not always full,
but neither is the moon
and she still finds a way
to pour her light into the sky.

Be there
to hold my hand,
or don’t.
Either way,
I am never letting go
of myself.

You
undress
my wounds
as if
they are
just as
soft
as my
skin.

I wear you every day.
A delicate fabric that can tear at any moment.
I can’t give you away,
you’re sewn into my skin.
But
maybe
I can layer you
with a new coat material,
fresh warmth,
strong lining,
bold buttons,
that tie our seams together
so nothing can rip us apart.

Remembering
how when we
were young,
we were so full
of life
and had
barely lived.

There I am,
running wild.
Free
as the
dandelion seeds
dancing in the air,
nestling into the earth
to make
my dreams
grow
true.

Mirror, mirror,
How do I see past this?

Look,
This reflection
is only a surface
to scratch.
Instead,
Dive into the
depth that’s
staring back.

Give pause
to your rush.

Catch up
with those places
that keep trying
to reach you.

Maybe the
routine is what
needs to be
unraveled to
wind up in
your ordinary.

Because
whatever
signs you’re
following,
we’re all
just trying
to find a way
back home.

Our bodies
run around all day
while our minds
try to catch up all night.

The real spine of this country
exists between the lines
where
battered backs
carry
the words of few men.
The weight on their bodies
keeps the truth
from falling off the page.

We need
to teach
that
beauty
is not
what you
can see,
it’s what
you can’t.

Button
yourself up
with
every
layer of love
your heart
has in store.

In reality,
whether
our eyes
are opened
or closed,
we are
always
dreaming.

You shine
when you
rise in your
true colors.

My biggest
character flaw
is that I’ve
always been
a perfectionist
disguised
as a romantic.

It’s not about you, Prince Charming.

Half full,
or half empty—
to be broken
and not know
what broke you
is a shattering
thought.

Somewhere inside,
a little girl
has been writing
this entire time.
She is running out of space,
but is too afraid to leave.
I opened my notebook to save her.
I can see her now.
Suffocating
between the lines
my pen is trying
pulling apart.

Sometimes
I'm not sure
if writing
is breaking
me apart
or putting me
back together.

In other words,
you are healing.

The scars
that do
not
hide
are the
stitches that
hold
her
heart
right on
her sleeve.

Pull me
into your tides.
I want to
get lost
in your water,
fight for
my breath,  
and wash up
somewhere
far from
where I
was before.

When I go outside, the earth, my mother always tells me:

Your petals may fall,
some days you’ll wither,
but you are a growing flower;
one whose beauty is out of the picture.
Don’t forget to look up, or down,
dig your feet into my ground.
I am always here,
watering your wounds
and rooting for your smile
to be in full bloom.

We are all born soft.
Floating into the hands of others.
Some don’t know how to hold on,
brush our hair back,
make a point to smile,
protect our tears in their palm.  
Instead,
they poke at us.
Say no
and go
with a firm fist.
Their claws try to embrace us,
but they only scratch the surface.
With so many punctures,
our insides drain.
Sinking,
we become skin and bones,
too hard to reach.

Others
may try to
chime in,
but you’re
the only
one who
can dance
to your
song.

Today
is a present
yesterday
could never
give and
tomorrow
could never
take away.

I should’ve
savored
your sweet
before it
turned bitter.
What I would do
for one more
squeeze.

What if every emotion
that refuses to live
below the surface
is a guardian angel.
Protecting
what’s underneath
while we heal
and grow wings.
When we’re ready,
they’ll open the gates,
so we can take flight.

Cornered
again
by battles
left behind,
I realized
that my
weakest
elements
are my
strongest
allies.

I rise like the
waves and
crash like
them too.

I am a body
of water
That’ll send
a ripple
down your
spine when
you dive in.