"Why did you stop trying to fix me?" she asked.

"Because, you can't glue someone back together when they won't hold still long enough to dry."

It's all so tiring.

We're all fighting for something.
Sometimes for things we don't need.
They take up our being,
and sometimes, they're the legacy we leave.
But we keep fighting,
for that one little thing.
And we let it consume us.
Because we're unwilling to set ourselves free.

Once
         there
               was
                     a
                      world
                        that
      ­                  would
                        have
                     much
               rather
         given
 love....

What saddens me horribly,
is that we spend too much time tangling ourselves up in our own insecurities.
Looping it around our throats and strangling our souls.
Maybe we need to start carrying around a mental knife...
Start cutting ourselves free before it’s too late.
The slow and painful process of watching a beautiful persons heart deflate from the negative needles that they turn on themselves, is becoming too common and too difficult to see.
Please, know that you're loved,
that you're unique,
that you're beautiful and smart.
Know that you're worthy of kindness.
Especially from yourself.

-Sincerely, A Stranger

A burning light has embedded itself into your steady heart.
It glows off your milky skin and brightens up your smile.
It twinkles out your eyes like specks of stardust.
And illuminates your profile.
It puts a bounce to your step and crinkles by your eyes.
And it seems to brush it's glorious glow to each passerby.
One day you were asked, "Why does your eyes hold the sunrise?"
And you spoke with a million rays of light as you replied,
"The world has gotten darker like midnight without stars.
As each and everyone of you demoralize yourself.
So, because I see my worth, a moon you think that I've become.
When really I'm just a star that knows within is where my worth's from."

Write what you want to feel.
Write what you can't say.
Even if, at first, you don't really know what it is you're saying.
Just keep going.
Keep feeling.
Let others read your work, and see themselves in it.
Write with that beautiful and chaotic mind of yours.
The one that is tangled and complicated.
That is charming and full of soul.
Then
and only then,
when you have lost yourself among the words in your veins,
do you find the path to your heart.

You fell in love with the way
the leaves fell from the tree's.
The way they were all beautiful,
as soon as they were leaf free.
They were bare and left vulnerable,
their branches like stiff fingers.
Looking as if trying to grasp,
their old life before winter.
You always loved the broken.
Or the ones that needed to be cared for.
And what you never seemed to have realized
was that those tree's were neither.
They didn't need your help.
For they already had a life goal.
To come back after winter,
So much stronger than before.
When you saw this you were disappointed.
And that's when I finally got it.
All this time it wasn't about fixing others,
But about stitching your own split.
You spent so long looking in others,
for a brokenness like yours.
Thinking that if you helped them fix it,
then maybe you could wipe your own tears.
But, darling, I'm here to tell you,
that your approach is all wrong.
You are actually like those bare trees.
For you've been whole all along.

Underneath all the makeup
Behind all the smiles.
I’m just another person.
Struggling through their trials.

There's a hum, a whisper, a note in your name.
A noise only heard at the quiet hour of 3:00 a.m.
When the sun has long been asleep in my world.
And your name is able to slip past my well constructed dam.
It arises when no one can hear my heart prattle.
A small touch of air along my already chilled skin.
I close my eyes in this mortal peace and listen.
As your name strums in my head like a violin.
Just for these few silent moments,
I let myself imagine an unrealistic thought.
When your name can pass my worried lips,
And I suddenly become more to you than just an afterthought.

You're a million separate puzzle pieces.
Each a little different.
Some are a little plain.
Some are exceedingly detailed.
Some have sharp edges.
And some are softly curved.
But all together,
I know,
it's an extraordinary,
beautiful,
and priceless
picture.
Worth an entire life time,
solving.
Actually...possibly even longer.

I feel old in this moment.
As if my soul has traveled far too many times around the sun recently.
I feel my bones stretch with knew realizations and my lunges expand with more knowledge.
I am but another youth,
but I feel so old still.
Life is hard lately.
Life is heartbreaking lately.
Life is constant and ever changing
and I am young but feeling old.
For I feel the breath stolen from his lungs,
I feel the chants of too many years of injustice.
I feel the fear of wearing a badge but wanting to make things better.
I feel the desperation of society.
And I feel so, so old.
What painful times we live in.
What changing times we live in.
I was young,
but knowledge ages you,
And now I know so much.
So I must speak what I know.
And change what I can.
And oh, dear God,
please let this next generation do better than we did.
Be better than we have.
For I am young.
But feel so old.
And there are so many like me
And so many more who have been tired longer.

"Borrow the day," she said,
"When your heart has lost itself in midnight."
"Borrow the birds." she said,
"When your soul aches to take flight."
"Borrow the air," she said,
"When the depths of the ocean chokes you."
"And borrow my heart," she said,
"When this world forgets to love you as I do."

There is a silent howling in my bones.
They shake and tremble from it's humming tones.
I slip slowly to my hollow knees.
For instead of marrow they're filled with airy screams.
I am now too weak to stand on two feet.
Oh, how all your callous words have emptied me!

The dress fits delightfully, each curve met with the finest embrace.
My hands and feet are ready, to walk and join yours in covenant.
How long I've felt the waiting, how soon I see your face.
For the first time as I ascend the isle, your tears of joy so evident.

I feel my eyes begin to burn, and look away hastily.
For the tears of love reflected in yours, might be my undoing.
I say goodbye to my mother, and it's from my father I cleave;
to join you, my sweetest beloved, in the most exquisite molding.

Where your name becomes mine, and our souls become one.
We both say I do, and join in an unbreakable love.
We walk back down that isle, now together in hand,
The rain splashing in light symphony from heavens joyful band.

The cheers ring up around us, a song I'll never forget,
A fairytale story, now sealed by God and a heartfelt kiss.
How I love you, my dear, and how that love shall grow;
each year that we remember, what such a small seed could sow.

So, to the future still unknown, we travel towards together,
my husband, now you are, my best friend, my only lover-
I, your wife, your first morning kiss and every evening embrace,
am yours; in body, mind and spirit, your home and safe place.

You can not choose the weather.
Nor the way the day's unfold.
You can not pick out the sunsets colors,
Or soften the winters cold.
You can not change the things you've said,
Or the way that you have cried.
You can not make time answer to you,
For it rides it's own tide.
You can not choose to forget those you've loved.
Nor can you make someone love you more,
You can not pick and choose your experiences,
Or go back to the person you were before.
There is so little you can control in this world,
So very few things we can completely control.
And the thing that I find so incredibly sad,
Is that the things we can, we blow.

A flood.
A torrent.
An endless pouring of doubt.
It fills.
It consumes.
It chokes and kills.
You don't see it.
But it's felt.
Inside the depths of my chest.
I'm dying.
It's strangling.
It continues to press.
I try and fail to breath
And the funniest part?
I put on a smile and make a joke.
And no one seems to see.