look up at the sky
and smile at it,
because as endless as the sky
is the hope you’ve been given
and the love inside your heart.
because as beautiful as the sky
are your dreams.
because you shine brighter
than the sun in the sky
and have more worth
than all the stars in heaven.
look up at the sky
and smile at it,
because heaven is your home.

don't be afraid to dream
because dreams were made for you
and you were made to dream.
darling,
close your eyes,
and let your soul be surprised
by the fire kindled in your heart
and the spark that lights your eyes.
so darling,
close your eyes,
and let your soul be surprised
and let it marvel at the dreams
that were planted in your heart
and just like wildflowers,
let them bloom.
but darling,
don't be surprised
when the wildflowers blossom
and your dreams come true.

one of these days you'll see me
smiling at the sun,
running freely in a meadow, picking flowers
and placing them on my hair.
one of these days you'll find me
writing my story in the sky,
singing the song of my
freedom and redemption.
one of these days i'll be
dressed in bravery and gold,
with fireworks in my eyes
and truth written on my skin,
with the taste of joy on my tongue
and bliss in my footsteps
because i will be free and
brave and carefree and hopeful
one of these days.

other people’s words
made my words seem small
but my words are mine
my words are special
my words are mine
my words have threads
of my soul woven into them
my words are mine
my words have my fire
my words are mine
my words are beautiful
my words are mine
my words come from my heart
my words are mine
my words have my love
my words are mine
my words share my story
my words are mine
my words share my struggle, my fight
my words are mine
my words come from my lips
my words are mine
my words come from my hands
my words are mine
my words have my fingerprints on them
my words are mine
my words can’t be told by anyone else
my words are mine
my words can’t be written by anyone else
my words are mine
my words don’t belong to anyone else
and i'll sing it from the rooftops
and shout it from the mountaintops
that my words are mine,
my words are mine,
my words are mine.

maybe you won't find me beautiful
because of my hair
or my lips
or the color of my skin
maybe you won't love
the way i walk or the way i dress
but i hope you fall in love with
the words in my soul
and the fire in my heart
and the myriad of stars in my eyes
and the wonder and grace that
are tangled in my hair
and the bravery that is
locked up in my bones
and the unfading beauty
of my spirit
and if you think that's
beautiful,
that is enough for me.

i wish my words
were enough.
enough to heal you
so that i could use
them as a balm to
place over your heart.
enough to take the
bandages from your
eyes so that you could see
the constellations that
made your soul their home.
enough to make you smile,
enough to make you see
that this is not it
enough to make you see
that there is more
enough to make you see
that you were made for more
enough to make you
love your struggle
and enough to make you
rise from the ashes
and i just wish that my
words were enough
to make you see
that you're enough.

I have to say
The truth be told
I'm addicted
I'm addicted to bettering myself
But not in thy way of improving oneself within
Improving myself with cosmetics
I'm addicted to the dark eyeliner
The cherry red lips
The perfect skin
It gives me confidence
It makes me scared to look my natural looks
Even when nobody else is going to lay eyes on me
I feel like I still have to put it on
For myself

You’re dying with this poem.

Slip on the syllables and
Crack your hollow shell.
Your eyes open to read your last
moment and breath within these lines.

Kiss your lips to the brim,
drink up these toxic words.
Let them trample your taste buds,
march through your veins, and
tie the loosened end.

Let them rip the very air
you breathe when you utter them and gasp, my love,
gasp for what you’ll never find
and drown in their reflection.

Your blind eyes will see before they gloss
that you’re just below the surface
stretching for the swaying safety;
so close, so unreachable with those
actions around your ankles:

The arresting of my heart.
The muting of my pulse.
The expertly placed knife on my clumsy faith.

These words will fall like bricks
crashing and smashing into your mind.
They leave fragments like those
you left behind.

These words, they
Tick, tick, tick,
and toll; the clock tower
screeches your final hour.

These words, they come from
Me.
And they run like blood.
And you won’t run free.

Plead all you’d like…
There is no warmth for
Cold men.
You’re dying with this poem.