You are more than a bottle,
the scars,
the bruises.
You are more than
unfulfilled promises,
duct-taped hearts,
and broken dreams.
You are more than
the scars used to hide all the
times you swore it would be the last.
You are more than
the judgemental stares,
the constant glares in your direction of people
searching for something they can
tuck into their pocket
only to reveal when a conversation gets boring.
You are more than
your father who spells love L-E-A-V-E
and your brother who thinks the leave will turn into love
at the bottom of another Budweiser
and your mother who still searches for his plot lines within the morning paper.
You are more than
the four walls closing in around you
with the word "succeed" written on them.
You are more than the ropes used to hold you down
With the words "fin in" written on them.
And contrary to popular belief,
you are not defined by a number on a scale
nor by the reflection looking back at you screaming "you'll never be good enough!"
You are more than the homes you have made for yourself
inside of others.
So break down that brick exterior
And do not rely on them for your shelter.
Build your own garden,
plant your own flowers,
and do not rely on others to bring you seeds.

(s.j.b.)

and maybe i like
my coffee cold and bitter now
because as much as I hate to admit it,
it reminds me of you.
(sjb)

they told me a few drinks
would help me forget you.
but long after my friends have taken my keys,
there's a burning in the back of my throat
that hasn't left since you did.
(s.j.b)

maybe one of these days,
i'll write a poem simply looking at you.
and it will belong on the walls of art museums
because baby,
you are art
and yes, it makes me feel something.
(s.j.b)