everyone just gave me flowers,
but you gave me an entire bouquet,
and they turned out to be weeds.
but they smelled so sweet,
and i already planted them in my garden,
and now they won't go away
no matter how hard i pull.
they are stuck there,
you are stuck there
killing the flowers i had before.
growing so thick
i have to poison myself to get you out.

don't just wear your heart on your sleeve,
wear your scars there, too.
don't cover them.
don't hide them to make others comfortable.

they are proof,
not only that you survived a battle,
but that you were hurt
and it didn't **** you.
your scars are proof that you are fighting;
that you are strong enough to fight
with tears in your eyes.
your scars are no sign of weakness;
they are every indication of strength.
don't cover them up.
don't hide them under your sleeves
or behind your teeth.

when they tell you to calm down,
yell louder.
scream because you're angry.
cry because it hurts.
stop listening when they tell you
to get over it; to try harder.
this is your battle.
fight it however you want,
however you can.
don't believe them when they say
"it's not that big of a deal."
it is a big deal.
it's your deal,
and that makes it the biggest deal in the world
because you are the world.
you are your world.
and they are not your sun.
they are not your moon.
they aren't even your stars.
they are dust, left over from an explosion that created you,
and all they do is disrupt your connections with the heavens.

it takes an explosion to create a universe.
so do not listen when they tell you to calm down.
stand up
and scream louder.
don't stop when they tell you to sit down.
don't stop until you are heard.

a little paper prince
with a little paper crown
lived near a little paper city
in a little paper town

the little paper prince
with his little paper crown
lived his little paper life
found in paper books all around

one day the little paper prince
in his little paper crown
found a little paper princess
in a little paper gown.

the little paper princess
had no little paper crown
but a little paper halo:
above her head, was round

the little paper prince
with his little paper crown
could not see her paper halo
and his face fell to a frown

the little paper princess
with no little paper crown
saw the little paper prince
with a smile turned toward the ground

the little paper princess
in her little paper gown
knew that they were more than paper
in that little paper town

so the little paper princess
in her little paper gown
took the little paper prince
and they ran away from town

the little paper prince
lost his little paper crown
as it fell off in the forest
and shattered on the ground

and the little paper prince
with no little paper crown
saw the little paper princess
with her halo that was round.

good news.
the world still spins around the universe
sunset and sunrise
just like before.
everything still seems to move on
the way it always has.
even without you here.
even when it seems
the world inside me has stopped
the world around me never stops moving
never missing a beat
day after day
slamming into you
knocking the air from your lungs
kissing your open mouth on the way out
reminding you
that just as easily as something,
someone
can be brought into your life,
they can be taken out.

i linger on the corner of moving on
and forgetting
and the pathways look all too similar.
down one,
the stars dance with the moon
cloaking the world in darkness.
down the other,
street lamps tease the midnight air,
flickering on
and off,
hiding what's just around the corner
and in the end, it doesn't matter which road i take
because while i linger on the corner of moving on
and forgetting
i still wear your watch to work.

this is a poem for the warriors
and for the worriers.
for the children whose eyes have grown so big
they cover their mouths.
"children should be seen; not heard."
children should open their hearts;
their minds.
they should follow their dreams
and whey they are asked: what do you want to be?
they should know
that in this world, there is not one thing
they cannot do.
it's time we raise kings, and queens,
poets,
lovers,
dreamers.
it's time we teach them
that when they run away,
the fastest way to chase their dreams
is to take the train into downtown tomorrow
for there lies a world of possibility
and promises.

this is a poem for the kids
who flew too close to the stars
and were left with scars
across their cheeks.
for the teenagers who are lost
inside their own minds
and their stories that are lost
on the tips of their fingers.
this is for the wanderlust
and the starry eyed.
for the boys who have fallen too hard
for a girl who was never strong enough to catch him.
and for the girl
who is too afraid to say goodnight to the moon.

this is the time
to throw your heart on the line
and blow caution to the wind
with the seeds of a dandelion.
this is the time
to forget the nights that sing "maybe tomorrow"
and jump on a train with a one-way ticket
to a world of your forgotten promises
and know that when you hop off
tomorrow will be today
and today is the rest of your life.