Don't tell me I'm pretty, I did not choose the way my features aligned themselves, or the texture of my hair, or the color on my skin. Tell me I have a beautiful mind, tell me you love my honesty. Tell me the way the rain makes me happy, makes you happy, compliment me on things I've worked on, on things I've developed. Don't tell me I'm ugly, I did not choose the way my features aligned themselves, or the texture of my hair, or the color on my skin. Tell me the way I enter a room like a hurricane infuriates you, tell me my tactlessness hurts you and everyone around me, tell me my inappropriate mouth is offensive and crude. Critique me on things I can change, make me a better person. I don't care how you think I look.

My thoughts are slow
My words are stale
But I continue to write
These words don't rhyme
These lines don't fit
But I continue to write
These metaphors are used
These feelings aren't unique
Yet I continue to write

everyone i've written about
has left me.
so you must understand
why i will not immortalize you
with my words,
why i won't turn you
into a poem.

maybe this way
you'll stay.

Aspirating on my aspirations,
I turn this stress to breath.

There on the cliffs
I spread my arms
over the sea
I reach for thee...
The room is still
I hear the ticking of the clock
I seek solace
  as the ocean crashes against the rocks
These words, these words they're all I have
beckoning me home again, and again
You hold me tight
  while we're in flight
we soar, we soar, to dizzying heights
my white gown flutters
all through the night
Tick, tick, tick
and, there's the hum in the room
inside stars
it's just the sound of my cocoon
Oh, how I never want to leave this place
in my imagination I've found grace.