Some things have changed on the outside and in.
Body is no longer curve less and thin.
Hair is choppy on most of the ends.
Short enough to reach just below my chin.

Some things have changed on the outside and in.
Resilience and strength rise from within.
May sometimes be foolish, may sometimes be sin.
But I know whose I am, and that is a win.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the way the sun sweeps across the eastern sky, signaling morning has arrived.
Not the way the moon sprinkles light where lovers hide.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the joy a baby brings when taking its first breath.
Not the flash of life once lived as approaching coming death.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the call to serve your own.
Not the fight to care for lives who have forgotten their true home.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the love for what is pure and true.
Not the hope that the Divine has rescued you.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not this longing for seeing the innocent kids.
Have a chance in this world to experience bliss.
To have dreams without fear and to see crystal clear.
Their reflection, so beautiful, cherished so dear.
Those unaware of the sadness they share.
Are the sad ones themselves as reality bares with it anger and loneliness hid behind stares.
Stares so blank and so void that gravity cannot bear.
They find themselves in the black hole and stay there.
Unaware, truly and wholly unaware.

Many things have not changed (oh but not this).
From my sins, from within, I am made brand new.
For that is exactly what faith can do.
Not a preacher, a speaker or a song with a muse.
Not a seeker of praise from a million or two.
Just a girl with a laptop who decided to choose to speak with words that simply cannot be confused.
They cannot be anything else but the truth.
And that does not change all the time through.

I have a question of philosophy
That bears directly on humanity.
Are the feelings I feel so soulfully
A result of my physicality?

Are my emotions incorporeal?
If I had no body would I still feel?
Feelings may not be the pure soul ideal.
What I sense does make my emotions real.

And if emotions are ****** bound,
Love and compassion now seem so unsound.
Feelings are stirred by what I see around;
I think my spirit world is earthly bound.

We’re taught ****** drives are so impure.
I find comfort knowing that’s not so sure.
I shall no more resist the world’s allure,
For true love on earth is the only cure.

‪Have ‬
‪You‬
‪Ever‬
‪Cried‬
‪Just‬
‪Because ‬
‪You ‬
‪Don’t‬
‪Feel‬
‪Safe ‬
‪Because‬
‪Of‬
‪Who ‬
‪You‬
‪Are?‬.

Throats hoarsen with daggered insults
A plea for control –
A threat of death–
A trust long frayed.

One arm reaches for the other
And uses it as a batting ram
A steady. beat.
Impounding on a vacuumed. chest.

And when hours pass
And scars are painted over
She provides flesh on a porcelain platter–
An apology for mistakes never made
She stares blankly beneath the sheets
And screams.
But hoarse throats make no sound.