Memory is a beautiful thing.
Those warm summer mornings sitting on the front porch.
Jumping on Colton's trampoline in a frilled baby pink tu-tu.
Little white bows in my golden curls as I bounce,
grinning so wide,
in the rays of the Texas sun.
Trips to the lake in our old boat.
The water warm and glittering, calling me for a swim.
Tubing behind the Seaswirl with my baby brother,
giggling like little kids do.
My old cowgirl costume for Halloween.
Running from door to door with an old ragged filled pillowcase in hand.
Singing Hilary Duff in my 5th grade talent show.
Nervously shaking as I watch the smiling crowd in front of me.
My first crush sitting next to me in math class,
Mrs. Woo telling me to stop daydreaming.
Green eyes that stare back into mine, laughing, moving in front of me.
Adventures in Burbank with Megan.
Laughing so hard we fall to the sidewalk in front of a full Mexican restaurant.
My first boyfriend kissing me under an oak tree,
in McCambridge Park at sunset.
Here I sit now.
At my washed out desk in a new dorm,
in college.
My life will keep moving on,
and I have all these beautiful memories to fill it with.
My own personal home videos to dance through my head,
as I think,
as I dream,
as I film more to think back on in ten years.
Life is too beautiful to waste.
I thank God that I have been so blessed to be living.
Loving, laughing, singing, dancing, smiling
and holding on to this free spirit that possesses me and moves me.
Someday life will be but a wonderful memory.

I stare enchanted out of the fogged window.
Teardrops roll down its smooth transparent surface,
crying for the warmth of the sun.
Old edifices stretching toward the sky,
reaching with arms out high above,
waving under the pitter patter of the misty morning's face.
I am afraid to go outside.
To leave the window alone in its misery.
Deep blue eyes search for glowing glory that never arrives.
Sidewalks stained with icy slopes.
I am called away and I comply,
in the chill of the angry winter's sky.

We have blended nicely together.
Like the mixing of blue and red paints.
We are purple.
Hola, Hello.
Te quiero, I like you.
Nosotros somos morados.
You teach me, I teach you.
When we hold hands I see it.
We have blended nicely together.
The more different, the better.
Nosotros somos diferentes,
pero somos el mismo.