When your 17
And she’s snuck out late at night
Don’t tell her you love the way her hipbones stick out at her side
Don’t kiss them
Don’t tell her you love her long, blonde hair

Because she will grow,
She will grow vulnerable
And her body will grow strong
For the words you spoke about her bones,
The whispers you sang about her hair,
They will grow
And so will she,
She will cut her hair short like she never said she would
Her hipbones will hide away for the baby she may one day bear

Those things you once praised
No longer remain
So how can she still be beautiful?

Instead of admiring the things that will change
Admire the things that will always remain

~ shay

I really need to see someone,
this is getting out of hand
My bedsheets have not been washed in weeks.

I would rather not speak-
about the laundry, stacked so high because my mind is occupied.
Where is my pride?

Medication bottles stay empty because a doctors visit is far too complex

How has he stayed?
Why hasn’t he left?
He is rare, handmade.

I really need to see someone,
before I simply fade.

~ shay