Soft petals opening on a flower.
Showing the shy and delicate flesh between the folds.
Displaying true femininity.
Graciously accepting the honeybees return to ensure that there will always be life to enjoy.
Mutual respect must be present as neither the flower nor honeybee alone can create new life.

There is ONE.
A girl cries herself to sleep after her boyfriend of 3 months tries to get up her skirt and then tells her she's not pretty when she denies him.

There are TWO.
A boy cuts his wrists after his girlfriend of 8 months leaves him because he won't sleep with her. He's 13. She's 12.

There are THREE.
A young woman kills herself after people tell her that her **** was her fault because she was impaired. It was just a fun night out with the girls to celebrate getting their Masters Degrees.

There are FOUR.
A young college male drowns himself in pills after being beaten and sodomized by straight males on his daily walk home from work because, "that's all **** are good for and we know you like it."

There are THOUSANDS MORE
A child that stops speaking because a family friend starts touching inappropriately and taking pictures.
Adults that carry weapons they aren't trained to use because others catcall them or follow them home.
A woman that takes a boxing class, not because she loves to box, but because her ex boyfriend beat her so bad she nearly died.
The mother that can't let her kids outside because strangers are no joke.
The middle school girl that snuck out of the house in a mini-skirt that never made it home.


"Every 109 seconds, an American is sexually assaulted.
And every 8 minutes, that victim is a child. Meanwhile, only 6 out of every 1,000 perpetrators will end up in prison." RAINN

Check out https://www.rainn.org/statistics

I've never felt more at home
Than when I'm not here in our house.

A big home with so many full rooms. Surrounded by useless things is all I've ever not wanted.

Give me a tiny home, a large yard, and love.
But don't trap me in your dreams and expect my happiness.

I am a real person.
I'm in a waking body with dreams of my own.

I'm drowning in this open space.
And you'd suffocate in mine.

Is there a compromise?

I once met a man who must have been a time traveler.
He could get so much done in one day.
He'd wake up early and go to bed by 10.
And I knew I wanted to be just like him.

The harder I tried,
The less I got done.
I was stressed, and unhappy, and blue.
Why was I so different?
I can't wake up early.
And I can't get to sleep before 2!

What amazed me most was that he wasn't rushed.
Time seemed to slow around him.
When I start a job the hours **** by
And I can never seem to keep up with them.

I think some people are just born to fit in
to our 24 hrs a day.
For me I am sure I need 20 more
and I have to accept I'm that way.

But every day I still try to slow down.
Take a breath.
Eat a snack.
And press on.

For although I take longer
Than my time traveling father
I still get a couple things done.

A warm hand caressing mine.
A smile so sweet.
A deeper meaning with the passing time.
So full of life, so up-beat.
And all the while, I know it's in the distance.

A relationship of some wonderful kind.
A wonderful guy with a wonderful mind.
And all the while, I know he's in the distance.

But miles mean little
when we're as close as we are.
Because although you're far,
you're so close to my heart, from a distance.

Instant attraction.

I swear it was a past life moment.

This one hasn't been working.
I'm forever chasing you.
But you have no memory of before.
Of that other life.
Neither do I, I guess.
But my soul is on fire for you.
Fire.

I don't know when it was.
Or what we did.

I don't even know you today.
But I love you.
And I miss you.
Forever.

There is beauty in your body.
There is beauty in YOUR body.
THERE IS BEAUTY IN YOUR BODY!

This is what women should hear every day.
Not how to be prettier, better looking, a better lay.
Yet we're surrounded with ads:
Wear this dress, try this make-up, and these fads.
And when we look in the mirror we all see shame.
Too fat, too tall, too proud, too lame.
And don't think it stops... with just one thing.
Oh no, every look in the mirror might sting.
Often we push our anxiety on others:
"She's too skinny, too pale, her pants look like my mothers."

But it's not true!
You're beautiful!
Get a mirror!
Look at YOU!

Look at US!
We are PERFECT.
Seriously!
We're curvy, we're thin, we're tall, we're small, we're strong, we're stable, we're exactly who we are!
Our ***** are just right and those butts, get 'em girls!
And our hair is just perfect flat or in curls!

So **** all those ads that tell us what to do.
Whoever you are...
There is BEAUTY in you.

Very
Inconsolable
Continuously
Trying to
Incinerate
Myself

There you sit all glowing,
Eyes lit with delight and the moon,
Singing with full emotion
swaying as you make the girls swoon.

But it's not them you're after,
you hardly notice their presence,
It's the guitar in your hand and the music you love;
It's the feeling, the sound, and the essence.

There's beauty in every note.
This makes you a true musician
Not another talented yet plain young man.
But a man honestly worthy to mention.
You close your eyes for sadness.
You smile for twisted humor.
And you drum your fingers to the rhythm you strum
On the guitar in your hand.

What makes you unique is the love and the grief
From the guitar in your hand.

And so I open my mouth.
Again.
And I triumphantly share
What has always been so hard for me:
Feelings.
I am an open book,
Yet I still so often have to explain
What's between my lines.
As if I need to summarize...
For clarity.

Yet I'm not charismatic or persuasive,
So I often feel that my words, unwritten,
fall in deaf ears.
So I wrote a poem
For the eyes.
But who understands poetry anyway?

As I rushed
And for just a moment
     I winced at the rain.

I drew in a deep breath
Grabbed my umbrella
     and ran.

But when I slowed down
And thought to put my umbrella away
I smiled at the thought
Of the rain touching my face.

An old song.
An old note.
An old friend.

A quick glance.
A small glimpse.
A fond memory.

It's in the lyric.
It's in the lettering.
It's in a mirror.

Remind me who I was.
Remind me who I am.
Remind me of who I want to be.