As well watered soil
Is to growing plants
A broken heart
Is the perfect condition
For the best
Of my poetry.

One of the faces
That I keep in my closet
Belongs to her

She has seen
The skeletons that dance and rattle
And the pale face that knows fear

With a blurred vision
I watch the words of love
Wash away like a sight in dark

Let this not be a generational curse but if so, let the chains break on me
Let not history repeat itself, for I will not do what she did
Let people not see her reflection on me
I am my mother’s child not my mother.
Let her curses not fall unto me
Let her sorrows be washed away by the sea that are in my eyes
Take away the knife that is in my heart
I am my mother’s child not my mother

When you fell my heart and tears fell too.
I am my mother’s child not my mother and you are still my mother

you haven't answered my calls in a few days
it shouldn't mean so much
but when the phone line lay empty,
i told the trees all about you through my tears
i left out the part where i said 'i love you' first
because i still pretend it was you

the moon listened when the trees went to sleep
and i asked her if she could keep a secret
she said she could, but i know she told the stars anyway
i whispered real quiet, so the wind couldn't carry it too far away

i'd love you, even if you broke me

My love
I wish to be engulfed by you
Drowned in divinity
For you are my goddess

My love and life
Fool I am
To say you are mine
I am your's entirely
A laborer for you

So when you tire
Take rest
I will hush the sun
I will move the tides  
For you
But return
So the sky won't miss you

I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.