poetry is someone's pure emotion
poured onto the page
beyond what's apparent

poetry is an orchestra of words
playing a symphony
that only certain people can hear

poetry is for yourself
for others
or for no one at all

poetry can be self reflection
or self deprecation
poetry just is

There are words etched into my skin
but they weren't placed there by others.
If I am in control of my thoughts,
then I am in control of my words
and only I can place words upon myself.
So call me names,
I already have my loquacious armor
and I'm not afraid to speak.
Chances are you won't tell me something about myself
that I don't already know.
Only I can truly define myself
and my skin is home to words such as:
honest, liar, loyal, manipulator, friend, and monster.

Try to make me feel bad.
I dare you.

All the beautiful people I'll never be
Walking on these crooked paths and
See right through me, I see right through you
Who am I? I'm beautiful, you're beautiful.
And I find it scary, we define ourselves only by words
Found in every standard dictionary.
What's your beauty making you a freak?
Before you speak, understand, you don't need to speak
That quality may only be seen, and no word can describe
Why, in this world, you are perfectly unique.

Or maybe you got out of the house today,
With a crippling fear that you might deteriorate
If someone looked you straight in your eyes,
But you're still out there, anxiety building, coasting the tides.
A victory to me may be your every day life
So if today all you did was get out of bed
Instead of fighting a constant strife in your own head
I'm rooting for you, do everything that is you.

All the beautiful people I'll never be
Are just as broken, believe me
We all have a closet full of skeletons.
Dance with the bones, come into your own element
I'm alone in a room with a circus full of elephants
Juggling knives and flaming clubs, then turn them all to doves
They throw peanut shells and I dance in a deadly dust
Flying until I fall off this adrenaline rush.
All the beautiful people, will never be me.

I am
.
I am
the product of my surroundings
.
I am
the result of my parents
.
The influence of my friends,
I am
.
All that, is what I am
What formed me
What brought me here
.
Their mistakes run in
my veins
.
Yet, I refuse
to be defined by them
.
All of that
I am
.
But I will
define myself
.

This year,
love has so many more meanings than the last.
Love takes up more of the space in which emptiness lived until now.
This year, love can be definable,
or not.
I've learned that some types of love do not sound like
"I love you"
but can only be felt.
In the kind touches of a companion,
of a new little sister,
or of your cats.

Love that can only be seen,
in the pictures of you and your best friend at a party,
in the face of someone who will stay on the line until you say goodbye first,
in your co-star on stage when you realize you've got it down.

Love that can be defined, but only in the obscurist of ways
because who are we kidding;  we're teenagers.
"You are so good"
"I can't wait to see where life takes you"
become immense words of love.

Love only whispered,
in paying for your friend's coffee,
in adding a special touch on a card,
in promising to run away with your best friend when she shows up crying about her mother.

Love,
a light touch of mysticism, the kind that makes you stay out late talking in a Walmart parking lot,
the kind that fills you when you make plans to run away to the city after graduation,
the kind that takes you 40 minutes to get lost in before realizing it.

This year was spent loving,
maybe not even myself most of the time, but loving nonetheless.
A swift movement, a soft turn,
and here we are.
A new year of undefinable, definable, mystical, whispered, and purposeful love.
I can't wait to see where life takes us next.