The spring froze for winter
It froze so slowly
Until to late
I blow gently
To form tiny puddles
I sprinkle salt
To expand the puddles
But it isn't enough
To keep the spring
UntitledWhen I looked in the mirror
All I could think of
Was the picture of the crying boy
Whose family's livestock
Had been killed in a car accident
We held the same expression
The difference between us
Lies in the adults
Who want to justify
Only the boy's anguish
Because at least my future
Doesn't depend on something that just
But what they don't seem to realize
Is that what is dying in me
No one can see
Unless someone looks deep enough
But no one will
Because I'm a "lucky one"
and not a starving child in Africa
If it Ever Stops Being Fun"If it ever stops being fun..."
When I was little
"...or it ever gets boring..."
I did Irish dance
"...or too hard..."
And I had an agreement with my mother
"...or something you just don't want to do..."
That she would never force me to continue
"...we can stop."
If I ever wanted to quit.
But that philosophy
when it counted
How do you tell someone you wish for a longer embrace
Without tipping them off
That something is
Shout it From the RooftopsStanding on edge
Toes curled around
Thrill of fear
On the Rooftops
But you came here to do something
I prepared a speech
They told me
To Shout it From the Rooftops
So here I am
Gray world, stories down
I cringe at the sight
Face the sun
People will change
I will change
Maybe even the world will change
If I was to be passionate
Momentum would carry me up here
Walking on a knife’s edge
Out on a limb
Asking for help
So high above
Where you all might or might not look
But the only audience
My broken pocket can afford
So audience, listeners
Hear what I have to say
We have it
Potential for change
And I had faith
That we could change
But life got in the way
Media got in the way
Crushed my hopes
So let’s make the world
The Media Can’t Twist
They don’t need much
To make us look vile
Greedy lazy selfish
Angry hurtful ha
Never Let GoLike we learn to crawl, talk and walk,
We must learn to climb.
We can only go so far
North, South, East or West
Why don't we go up?
Mount the cliff...
never let go...
If you need to fall,
While the ground isn't far
And regaining lost progress
There will come a point
After you've climbed for a while
Where you muscles will burn
And a grimace replaces a smile
Even if you just stop for rest,
Be careful, don't let go
You've put your blood, sweat and tears
Into getting this far
The fall is far
And will end it all.
No going back
no mounting again.
Never let go...
...never let go...
Hope for a Better TomorrowEven if,
when we count our blessings,
we find ourselves with very few,
the fact that we are here today
that there is hope
for a better tomorrow
UntitledMy mom gave me
Who I am.
What I am like.
She took the clay in her hands
She took the paintbrush
And guided my colors across
A little piece of her
In every piece of me.
And everything in between.
Rules of the WorldWhy is it
That we only find life
On the Edge or
I do not want to remain idle forever
But the rules of the world
Are not easy to define
Let alone break
Your feelings are validI once read
that a teaspoon of matter
from a black hole
can weigh thousands of tons
so think about that
when someone tells you
your problem is no big deal
it may not look
like I have the weight of the world
upon my shoulders
but it sure can feel like it.
FarewellThe sudden void into the unhinged mind of a demented soul,
The rapture of a lucid dream, falling into an obliterated consciousness
The devastating coma of a genius protagonist, completing the epic tale of a life
It was all but a dream, a chimera, an excruciating lie.
The nothingness digging its claws into a cryptic vision,
The finality of a banal, vain existence
Never to be remembered, nor praised for its perpetual battle against agony.
There is nothing,
Nothing but the sharp sound of shattering glass,
Nothing but a hollow shell on the edge of the world.
This is where I depart, this is where I bow down,
This is where my crude hatred vanishes with my existence
There is nothing but a vague memory, of a silent soldier walking against the wind,
The pallid remembrance of a once scintillating simper
Good fortune to you all, for my path lies beneath the river
And with it, a single breathe to be released upon all as a somber farewell.
Fairy Tale GirlFairy tale little girl.
She wears a crown upon her head,
And befriends the monsters under her bed.
She sings songs to birds.
But no one ever heard
Her cries when the castle walls came tumbling down.
Real world little girl.
She weaves herself a fantasy inside her mind.
Hoping to find
The same peace from when she was young.
And she's like water colors.
So soft, and easily washed away.
She is the soft blues in the morning of a new day.
I found her hiding within her tower.
Far above the real world below.
She is so broken but never lets it show,
So desperate for some fairy tale ending.
She asked me quietly one day,
'Do you think the world will ever be like my story books?'
I thought for a moment before replying,
'In order to survive there are some bad things you have to overlook.'
'The world is grey.'
I heard her say one day.
As if accepting the odd mixture of good and bad.
Her voice sounded happy and sad,
All at once.
As she ripped away the last page
In her story book.
beautiful.i hate my stretchmarks
the vertical the horizontal the ones running miles down my arms
stripes on a circus tent
my body is a freak show
75 cents a ticket
they are the bars on a cage
trapping me inside this prison cell of flesh
(not letting me run away
from all i once was)
reminding me that i am
still that little girl who
was told that she had too
much weight in her stomach
and in her thighs
to be called beautiful
my stretchmarks are the debris from when i tried to collapse upon myself
tried taking up less space
because beautiful is small beautiful is skinny
diets upon diets
because i've been told that
i am only worth the sharpness of my collarbone
Between life and death
again and again on my knees
broken by those who should help me stand
not sad nor happy in this life
and getting up
again and again
after every fall
more determined to keep standing
more desperate to avoid another
depression doesn´t hurt
it´s beyond limits of sadness
beyond any other feeling known by mam
being alive is too hard
there are easier ways around
why to stand up after fall?
stubbornly holding on worthless things
patiently crying when no one hears
broken pieces glued together
effort testing limits of strength
buying time to find more will
forgetting to smile
what did it feel like
for the last time?
Why I DanceI dance as if I am sick,
And the movement is medication.
As if getting up in the morning just to practice is the only motivation
To stay awake.
Because well- worn soft shoes
Feel like home.
The world is cold, and lonely.
But when I dance, there is a fire inside my heart, warm and lively.
I feel like a bird,
Like I am able to fly as high as I want.
Gravity, I taunt
As I laugh in its face.
Because the Earth was never a place
Because leaping across dance floors,
Allows me to soar
Higher than I could in my dreams.
Hard shoe dances make me feel powerful.
Like a raging storm at sea.
My stamps, and clicks are crashing waves.
But I am also the sea breeze.
Strong and graceful.
When I dance I feel like I am trading
Secrets with the universe.
My head is clear,
And my will power is strong.
I am a force to be feared.
On bad days,
The rhythms of hard shoes sound like a heart- beat.
A life line.
And I’ll dance until my feet bleed
Just to feel something.
Because dancing is the only thing
A Letter to the Girl who Hates her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.
A letter to that girl
Who scrolls through tumblr.
Admiring all of those models.
With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.
And a waist that you can barely see.
A letter to the girl
Who looks at models,
For their curves.
The way their hips go outwards
And their size D cup breasts.
Please don't look in the mirror,
And hate the girl you see.
That girl is you
And she should be loved unconditionally.
Because you deserve love.
And how much love is not determined on your waist size,
Whether you're chubby or skinny
You're still so very pretty.
You're so perfect.
So for every time you look in that mirror.
And tell yourself you aren't worth it.
That you're arms are too big,
Your hips aren't big enough.
I am a woman.
I am strong.
I have a body like a castle.
A kingdom made just for me.
And I will not destroy that castle,
By trying to starve myself.
By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
Dear Homophobic ParentsDear homophobic parents,
How the fuck do you think it makes me feel
When you walk out of the room crying
Because you can’t stand the thought of something I can’t control.
I’ll tell you that it makes my insides burn.
The living room feels like a closet.
Suffocating, and yet I can breathe fine.
I am choking on the air,
Polluted by your homophobic slurs.
Making uneducated guesses about things you know nothing about.
Someone ought to teach you to look shit up
Before you go about, shouting your false claims to the world.
My very existence is an error.
Some messed up chemical defect that went wrong,
I don’t belong
I am the Titanic,
To you I am supposed to be perfect
I am supposed to be straight, and happy, and fine.
But I am so very far from fine,
When my lungs are filling up with water,
Your words are an ice berg,
And I am sinking fast.
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.