I don't miss you, but damn, did I miss myself.

You don't own me because I barely can hold on to myself.

They called her stargazer. Not because her freckles made constellations on her skin...

I forgot how good the pen feels on the paper, unplanned and full of the present.

Connected, but not the connector. Traveler, but not the guide.

DNA is not an excuse to sentence yourself to a life of misery.

I create the friction, I increase the static. I turn up the frequency of things I cannot understand, things I cannot help.

stop deconstructing what is already whole...

Can you really love someone you didn't know? A poem that explores questions about relationships and love where you feel there might not be any left.

Pull the thorns from your fingers, seal up the wounds with love. You no longer have to suffer, to let yourself bleed uncontrollably at the mercy of others.

Artists rise up. Take your place among the rest.

You do not have to earn that crown upon your head. It is a gift given to you freely because you are already worthy.

To be left alone is to be isolated from the influence of other people. To be left alone is too much freedom to ask for.

I am as strong and fragile as the icy pond where I took my first step, where I took my first fall.

Be more than a liked picture. Be more than a moment of recognition until the screen passes you by.

A story about the struggle with self acceptance and love, about the cycles of relationship with your body.

You can't do that, you are too good. You are too nice. But I'm misunderstood.

They polish off the dust to let the trophies shine, but I can tell that in their hearts, they visit all the time.

Her heart ached and her head raged with thoughts of how she could never turn around now. She was in the middle of the road.