she says
she's not a poet
but i find her poems
to have more meaning
more beauty, more heart
to them than mine
and the way
she uses her words
can change how a person is feeling
from sad to happy
just with a couple of phrases
knitted together

she says
she's not a good writer
but those early morning
last minute essays
of pure adrenaline and
half-awake thoughts
present ideas
in such a way
that it's impossible
to find them anything
but perfect

she says
she's not sure
what her future will bring
but i know her
she's smart
and she's
so wonderfully stubborn
that wherever she may end up
she will go farther
than anyone could have ever imagined
including me
i can't predict exactly where she'll be
in 4 months
or 4 years
but i know her path will go
down the most bountiful roads
and in the end
she'll be happy
and all will be worth it

she says
she's not grateful
but almost everything she does
she does for others
she loves her parents
and hurts when they hurt
she realizes what they do
for her, and wants to make them
the proudest parents on earth
she loves her friends
and tries to make them better

she says
she's a relationship whisperer
and i guess she's right
because with a few choice words
gentle nudges and an onslaught
of appreciated suggestions
she whispered us together

she says
that the dark spots on the sun
can bring shadow
to the most brilliant light
but not even
the dark of endless night
can dim her brightness
or hide her from those
who see her for who she is
who see her potential

she doubts herself
sometimes she thinks
she won't succeed,
always worried
that what she's done
isn't enough
or that there's too little time
to get everything done
but no matter the odds
no matter what she's up against
she pushes through
she persists, she fights
and she gets what she wants
or as close to what she wants
as is actually possible
sometimes she even achieves the impossible
and it's nothing if not admirable
showing me that anything is possible
proving to me that
"You could rattle the stars
You could do anything
If only you dared"
not by anything i've done
but by everything she's accomplished

she says
she's not beautiful
true, she's not a model
but that doesn't mean she's not perfect
but the way those eyes shine
like earth kissed by spring rain
promising life and happiness,
mirrored by her wide smile
though not often seen,
just one smile from her
is like a ray of sunshine
through grimy windows
bringing light into a place
that knew nothing but darkness,
warm enough to melt the walls
surrounding the coldest of hearts

somehow,
sometimes
she says she's ugly
possibly due to the scars
dotting her arms and her back
scars which started years ago
but on the contrary
i think they just enhance her
they make her more human
each one a reminder
that she's been through
countless things in her life
but instead of giving up
instead of giving in
she's come through,
a lump of carbon
forged by the fires
of her world
and the pressure of
her surroundings
the pressure of life
and came out
the most precious of diamonds
not the biggest
but the most wonderful of all
with small flecks of imperfections
that make it shine all the brighter

i say
she's often right,
but the subject
becomes herself
and she's far from the truth
she's absolutely wonderful
and in my eyes
perfect
a perfect person
and a perfect friend
the most beautiful woman on earth
mentally and physically
and there's nobody else
i'd rather love

In a mental world
where all I need is to
be a man,

I’m told to be this woman.

Shave your legs,
make your voice high,
wear the flower perfume,

not the men’s cologne.

Let your hair grow out,
keep your name,
don’t build your muscles.

You don’t look right.

You’re my daughter,
not my son.
You will not be an “other,”

you shouldn’t be masculine.

It’s a reminder
of the world we live in;
one where you can be yourself

if you fall into the right box.

The right clothes,
the right hair,
the right materials,

the right parts.

Let me out;
get this monster released
so I can be myself

a self-made man to be.

A self-made man
without a care in the world.
A self-made man

wanting to be known.

He writes boy on his leg
Etching the letters the world won't understand
Wishing the felt tip pen could
Break the gravestones on his chest
And fill the valley between his legs

He writes boy on his leg
It's a word kept secret in fear
He's a mustang learning his legs
And the world is a pack of vicious wolves
They don't know what to call him
Only he does

He writes boy on his leg
Takes a picture and sends it to the one he knows understands
The flash against his pale skin stark and bright
Like sleepy eyes against fresh snow

He writes boy on his skin
Because he can't write it anywhere else

You have the soul of a lion
Buried deep beneath lessons
Of inferiority and knowing your place
They've told you where you belong
How you're meant to be
But they're wrong

Deep inside you is a predator
Itching for you to see
See the fire in your eyes
Or feel the sharpness of your teeth and tongue
You may not have the mane you want
But you have a mane of fire
Burning from your soul
Pushing free from your skin

No man can stand a lion
You are more powerful than your body
More important than their words
You're the king of the Savannah
And the king of your heart
All you need to do
Is find your roar

I thought we were going to be best friends
For a really, really long time.
I thought that you would never leave
Especially without a warning.
And now it seems that you don’t want me
Anymore.
You don’t feel the need for me
Anymore.
I feel like a part of me has been
Ripped apart.
Apart from my body.
My heart.
I don’t know what I did
But I’m sorry.
Please come back to me.
I can’t seem to stop crying.

Sometimes I feel sick and tired.
It usually goes away after a day.
But lately I've felt worse.
I've felt nauseated.
I've felt like crying.
And all for what?

I thought it was just a depressive episode.
I thought I would feel better after a few hours of crying.
But I just feel worse.
I feel more sick and tired.
The feeling that I will throw up anytime won't go away.
Why do I feel this way?

I think it's because I feel so lonely.
I feel isolated from the world around me.
Yeah, I hang out with friends a lot.
But I never really feel there.
It's just so exhausting.
Why is this happening?

I've always wanted a pet.
To help me feel comforted.
And make me stop feeling lonely.
But sadly I can't have one.
And I will be alone for what feels like forever.
Why is the world so cruel?

My isolation follows me.
It's there when I wake up.
It's there when I'm with other people.
It's even there to tuck me in at night.
I still feel queasy.
Why is it so involved in my life?

Why am I asking so many questions?
Why is the light of the screen making my nausea worse?
Why can't I stop crying?
Why can't I think clearly?
Why do I feel so lonely?
Why?

When I told the doctor,
About how the voices in my head
Tell me to **** myself,
And how I have anxiety attacks over the simplest of things,
And how it seems that I’m constantly sad.
He said,
“Oh here. Take this.”
And so I did.
But it didn’t help.
So I stopped taking it.
The next doctor gave me a new medication.
And this one seemed to make everything worse.
So I stopped taking it too.
The next doctor told me to go to therapy,
Because that’s what people like me need.
So I did.
And she told me that I was making it all up.
That it was all in my head.
And that If I kept telling these lies that I would be put in the hospital like the rest of the crazies.
If doctors are supposed to help you,
Then why did they only seem to make me worse?
If doctors are supposed to fix the problems,
Then why did they only give me more problems to add to my list?
If doctors are supposed to understand,
Then why did they call me crazy?

Just an average day in my average life
no cause at all for worry or strife.
But then it hits out of the blue.
This terrible feeling is nothing new...
So I sing the

Anxiety song
Anxiety song
Before its over something will go wrong...
In my anxiety song.

My hear beats fast and I can't get air.
I don't think straight. I'm so **** scared.
At about this point, I start to cry.
I really really wanna die.
But I sing

The anxiety song.
anxiety song.
A panic attack can feel so long.
Here's my anxiety song.

You want to have a good day,
but your brain is saying "no way".
Things are not ok .
Why can't it go away
goawaygoawaygoaway
goawaygoawayawayawayaway
[hyperventilates­] [gathers self]

It's the anxiety song
anxiety song.
I'm gonna finish it singin' strong.
It's my anxiety song.