In 30 second increments,
while standing under a ray of sun,
or in the rain,
or in the small chill that snow brings.
At 3 am, when I can’t sleep.
When I happy cry at TV shows,
and when I find a new favorite book.
When I feel insecure,
or when I feel confident.
During my alone time where I recharge,
or when I’m with others.
Self discovery is coming along,
one moment at a time.

My blood boils inside of my skin,
as if my temperature suddenly increased
by 100 degrees.
I’ll lay down in bed,
no matter what time of day,
and allow tears to roll from my eyes down to my pillow-
like rain drizzling from the sky-
until I cry myself to sleep,
hoping to wake up to feel your arms wrapped around me tightly,
and your chest pressed to my back;
my small, fragile frame cradled within your larger one.
So that I no longer feel a dull ache in my chest,
longing for you when I know I shouldn’t.
The painful silence of your absence is what keeps me running back to you every time,
even when I know I shouldn’t-
I’ll always come back to you.

I wish I was pretty.
I wish it looked like the sky was reflected in my eyes,
and I wish my skin was smooth like marble.
I wish my hair was thick and strong,
and I wish my smile brightened up a room.
But instead,
my eyes are more gray than baby blue,
and my skin is translucent in some spots.
My hair is thin and short,
and my smile is crooked and far too wide for my tiny face.
I’m still learning how to love myself despite how others make me feel-
because although this body may not be the most beautiful,
it’s the only one I’ll ever have.

My thumb scrolls up and down upon my phone,
allowing me to waste more time out of my day comparing myself to others;
asking myself questions like:
“why don’t I have friends like that?”
“how come I’m not pretty like them?”
determining my worth by the number of likes I get
on the picture I took at least 50 times over,
because the first one just wasn’t good enough.
I hide behind a screen,
lowering my self esteem with every scroll.
instead of living the life I want to live,
living in fear that I will never be “perfect”,
just like the people I see in my phone.
(I need to stop comparing myself to others)

I wish I could sleep peacefully like a housecat,
snuggled into a reclining chair,
without a care in the world.
But instead
I toss and turn with the thought
that I’m not sure where I’ll be resting my body to sleep
6 months
or a year from now.
I lie awake with the worries
of missing home and feeling guilty
for leaving my needy parents behind.
The thought of distance separating you and I,
causing us to not be together
keeps my eyes open,
so that I cannot close my eyes to sleep -
not even a wink.

I'm still counting the bricks to the home I'm building for myself.
I'm still laying out the blueprint,
and figuring out what color walls I want.
I'm still figuring out how to tuck myself into bed each night,
and how to turn off the nightlight without feeling scared.
I'm still learning how to make myself a cup of tea,
and what food fuels my body best.
I'm still learning how to be my own home,
one brick at a time.