watch your own hands

if you spend your

minutes and your

hours in frantic

search for villains,

they will be

there, in every

place you look –

but be careful,


for those who look for

villains in

people, will often

turn to villains


spilling secrets over tower bridge

The snow settled onto the chocolate brown of her hair, making her semblance even more magical than I had grown accustomed to. She tucked a strand delicately behind her ear and turned to face me.

“They will wave their hands in the air proudly and shout that the world was made for people like them and not for people like us, ” she began.

She paused slightly then and, despite the nature of the conversation, a soft smile appeared on her cherry lips.

“But, ” she added,
“what they won’t tell you is that the world was made by people like us, and not by people like them.”

We continued walking, our footsteps fading away quickly behind us. It occurred to me at that moment that I would likely never learn the art of understanding her.

stereotypes cake my skin like paint


I am not who you think I am.

Isn’t it funny that you would think that?


people-watching is my favorite past time,

but that is because I am pretending,

you cannot assign stories to people

and expect them to take it.


I know I like to wear dresses and my hair is long and

I paint my lips in pretty shades of pink but


I do not dream of picket fence kids.

I kiss girls instead of boys, actually.


I am not a fragile stemmed dandelion for you to rip from my home,

just to sing your wishes into the wind like a song.


I am not who you think I am,

unless I have told you so.