I can say I've touched the sun.
The radiation was nothing compared to my salvation.
The sensations welcomed me home.
A place beyond time, beyond one's mind.
I lived what past versions of me never dared
and lost it all in a instant.
So to now stand in the silence of what once burned bright.
I become a fleeting spark, what was once our light.
I chase the whispers of the sun.
Hoping to undo what's already done.
Yearning for the sky to cradle my heart once more
but I am grounded to dirt and grass.
Like a bird, I used to be one with the sky.
I've hit the window too many times.
You clipped my wings.
Why do you still expect me to fly?
Do I keep reaching for what can’t be found,
Or surrender to the weight of the earth beneath the ground?
Am I meant to rise again, to heal, to soar,
Or remain rooted, in the place I implore?

I am me
There is no other like me
Why would there be
I sometimes cry
I sometimes laugh
I sometimes can be loveable
I sometimes can be caring
I m sometimes  even sleepy
At some point can be cranky
I’m sometimes not a morning person
Oh who I’m kidding
I’m not a morning person
I have diabetes anxiety and depression
I’m a mother , wife , daughter , aunt and a best friend
I have haters jealousy and greed
I love pink , purple and blue
I love summer and sometimes spring
I hate winter and even fall
I love horror , comedy ,  mystery and Jesus too
With all of this makes me BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT
I am me

Listening to Jimmy Buffet
while relaxing on the roof,
she says “I swear I could jump right off it,
because I believe that I am bulletproof.”
This prompts a needed conversation
about theoreticals and physics,
based on her lack of self preservation
soon it will be her grave I visit.

You turn pebbles into rocks
and you make roads into sidewalks,
while both are wrong I could take them on
but you are like the chains to my locks.

I was stumbling through the darkened hall
leaning up for support against the the wall,
And found myself in a dusty bathroom stall,
advertising numbers of some bird I heard I should call.
Give a penny for your thoughts,
I’m saving up for nothing good.
I beg “give it to me straight, doc”
as any good doctor should.

You turn pebbles into rocks
and you make roads into sidewalks,
and in my mind, how easily I find
a thick outline that’s drawn in chalk.

What a bone I’ve got to pick
too bad it’s chipped and it’s been ground.
I hope this situation doesn’t stick;
but it’s past it’s welcome stuck around.
And I’m greeted like an answering machine,
except no has any answers left for me.
It’s all just driven me right up the walls,
I keep saying “you’re killin’ me, smalls.”

My favourite colour is snow blue
The colour you see when snow reflects the sky
It’s a cold colour, yet it makes me feel warm

My favourite flower is the smeraldo
It stands for the truth that couldn’t be told
It’s a fictional flower, yet it’s the prettiest for me

My favourite person is my best friend
They are my light and my darkness
They don’t treat me well, yet I love them

I’m always forgotten because I’m never known.
They see me and my concept,
what they believe it is,
but they do not take the time to know me,
my insides and fillings,
my laughs and tears,
my thoughts and words.
I’m always forgotten because they never care enough to notice my light,
or my lack of one.
Superficial gifts and smiles
all at once in one Christmas night.
I’m always forgotten in their brains,
like tasks that no one wants to do,
a person no one wants to know.

Closer to new years now.
I’m always forgotten over the summer.
I exist,
lax and blurry,
because they don’t remember me if they don’t see me.
Every person creates a different image,
except no one actually knows me.
They just see.
They watch.
They imagine.
And they create.
Me,
in their brains.
But its not me anymore,
because a me doesn’t exist in anyone’s mind.
Not even mine.

Sometimes you
Decide to
Have a really big meal
Then proceed
To not eat
For the next eight
Hours right?
It's not that you can't wait
But the faintest smell
Of food might
As well
Knock you out.
It isn't about
Being physically
Full, correct me
If I'm wrong
But going too long
Without anything
Would bring
About the strongest's doom.
(No, food here
Is not the elephant in the room.)

Do
You
Really
Love me?
It’s probably
A me
Problem
But why
Can’t I
See it? Why
Don’t I
Feel cared for
When I text you anymore?
Maybe you
Used to;
Maybe you did
But what got rid
Of those feelings?
Because every time
I’m
Dealing
With you and your
Issues I pour
My heart and soul into
Helping you
But I’ve just
Never been checked on
Without me breaking first.
Always been looked upon
As support for you to lean
Against but that just means
I’ve always carried your weight;
Forever stuck in a stalemate;
Not yet dead
But nowhere to run instead.
Can you tell
How much I love you
And how much I wish you
Loved me too?