all rooms have doors

you must remember

never to rush the

closing of one door for

fear of the closing of

another –

for with patience, every

door that is meant for

you will remain open,

or will open for you

again.

mirror fragments

I have always

been like

broken glass

to you,

making you see

the parts you didn’t

want to

contemplation

I wonder what it would be

like to have

arms to sink into

when my body

gives out

on the validity of validation

what is it you

see when you look at

me that makes me

less to you?

a tone of skin

unlike yours, curves you are not

used to, a culture you do not

know, a life you have not

seen, less

money, more

dreams?

what is it you

see that makes my

humanity

obsolete?

your love is not theirs

oh baby,

you are a

beautiful intricacy of

messy imperfection and

gorgeous determination,

and when they call you

ugly,

they are only speaking to

mirrors.

words of a fallen soldier

There is a complexity to fighting for the things that break you.

Knowing the reasons why you are

breaking and offering yourself

willingly –

not because you want to be

broken, or for some means of

self punishment but

instead

because you believe enough in

yourself to know that you

will make it.

 

That maybe one

day the breaking will end and

you will have

never given up.

your love is not a plea deal

I have come to

realize that

if you give someone your

entire heart

and that is not

enough

for them then they were

never enough

for you.

the trauma of travels

be gentle with

me,
for I

am still a

child of the

universe and I

am still

bruised from

my time here.

to my dance teacher

twist my body into

shapes that look more

beautiful than the

shapes she makes of

me,

please

witch’s prayer

I cannot be

wanted

only for the

way I

heal you.