Category: Poetry

While most girls wanted
cars, clothes, makeup, money,
on their birthdays,
all she wanted was more
people who cared enough to remember when hers was.

Her smile grew bigger
as her wounds grew deeper;
Her silence grew shorter
the longer she took to heal;
Her laugh grew louder
the closer she got to jumping off the edge.

She felt guilty
every time she yearned
for something
she believes she didn’t reserve.

It’s fucked up
how in love she was
with tearing herself apart,
just so that she could prove
that only she could do that to herself.

She was homeless,
not in the sense that she didn’t
have a place to live,
but in the way that she didn’t have a place
where she belonged.
She was friendless,
not in the sense that she was unpopular,
but in the way no one really
accepted and understood her.
She was heartless,
not in the sense that she was a bitch,
but in the way she seemed to always
misplace her compassion.
She was loveless,
not in the sense that she wasn’t loved
by others,
but in the way she couldn’t channel
love towards herself.
She was lifeless,
not in the sense she lacked vitality,
but in the way she didn’t believe the life
she lived was worth living.

She was a blooming wildflower
amidst a sea of potted orchids
and freshly cut roses;
that didn’t make her any less beautiful,
maybe more so
because she grew into herself
under the mercy of storms and sunshine
and not under the influence of hands
that only wanted to reap her beauty.

Her love was intense.

She loved slowly,
but deeply
and with all that’s left
of her constantly crushed heart.
She understood
that people couldn’t love her
as she did them,
but that was okay
because she knew
that nobody could love
a person the way she did.

She refuses to contain
her love,
for she feels
that there just wasn’t enough
in the world.

If everything has a price,
Just remember this:
No one is worth your happiness;
No one is worth your self-respect.
Your tears are priceless;
Your smiles are precious;
Your laughter is invaluable.
Your mind is worth more than gold,
And your heart worth more than diamonds.
You know what you are worth,
Don’t sell yourself short for anybody.

Maybe we name hurricanes
after people
because some of them
enter our lives
and leave untold destruction
just like one.

Every night,
she would look up at the stars
as she continued to bind her wounds with words;
she was content with the idea
that one day she would return to the sky
and shine in a way she never could on earth.