today I say goodbye
to those who didn’t care
and never will.
those whose voices jeer
and snarl
and mock
the way I live my life
as though I’m not living it
according to the rulebook
which everyone seems to have a copy of
but me.

today I say goodbye
to the ones who do not like me
for reasons quite unknown.
because I’m a pretty cool person,
or so my stuffed animals tell me.
and what use is it
to try and live my life to please someone
who doesn’t like who I am
at my very deepest of cores
when there are people
who look at me
and tilt their heads
and smile
and think
“wow. she’s a weird one.
I like that.”

and why would I ever
listen to the voices in my ears
that tell me I’m too old to play pretend
too old for imaginary games
too old to love the things I love
when I can close my eyes
and count to ten
and pretend they no longer exist?

I think I lost
the girl that I was
in the hope that I could become something more.
because there’s an expectance for where I am,
this unspoken rule
that you have to be this
and you have to love that
or you’re doing something wrong
and living your life incorrectly.

well, I don’t like this
and I don’t love that
and I’m never going to be the person they want me to be.
because that girl is angry
and sad
and small.
and I’m a little bit different
and a little bit loud
and a little bit more
than I thought I was yesterday.
and if that’s not what they want–
if they’d rather have cookie cutters
and half-hearted smiles–
then I think I’ll just take
my pocketful of glitter
and find somewhere else
to call my for now.

featured photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

just a thought

i’ve never met someone
so good
and strong
and kind.
whose heart isn’t shaped
by the world’s thundering opinions
but by what they believe
the world should be

and yet there’s a sadness
an understanding
that i see inside those smiling eyes.
and maybe the rest of the world
is too distracted to see it.
too blinded by the light you put into this universe
with seemingly so little effort
to notice the weight on your shoulders
which you feel you must carry alone.

but i see it.
and i know you’re not broken–
not truly–
just a little bit chipped.
and i know that things which seem so effortless
so simple
really take everything we have left inside.
little by little
piece by piece
until we feel as though we’ve lost ourselves
to a darkness we didn’t know existed.

and here we are with empty hands
to find ourselves again
and again
until one day we’re not so lost
and not so broken
and the light in our eyes feels a little less like a lie
and a little more like a truth
which we’ve wanted to believe for years.

and it’s a magical kind of change
a beautiful sort of freedom
that lifts you up on your toes to catch a falling star as it passes.

and maybe we’re not there yet
still caught up on this winding road of trying and failing
to reinvent ourselves.
but there are wildflowers in the ditches
and bumblebees in the flowers
and i think
though it’s a little darker than we would have liked
i’d like to stay here a while
and catch a falling star or two
with you by my side.


I wonder if the sun ever has a bad day.
If its alarm clock goes off
And it rolls over in bed
And that sinking pit develops in its stomach
As it remembers all of the wrong which occurred the day before.

I wonder if it considers simply never getting up.
If it would rather stay indoors
And wrap itself up in a nice cozy blanket
And eat some ice cream to feel better for three minutes
And then guilty for twenty.

I wonder if it asks the moon for just a few more hours
So that it doesn’t have to face the pain of simply existing

But then I remember
That even after the hard days
The tough days
The days that make me wish there were no more days to follow
The sun continues to rise
And pull itself out of bed
And brush its teeth
And hang itself nicely in the sky
So that it can smile down on me
And remind me that there’s still a little patch of good left in this world.

And if
Even after the bad days
The sun can continue to rise
Then I suppose I can try
To get up after the hard days


Twenty-one is such a funny age, isn’t it?
It’s poetry and ink-stained fingers
Hopeful eyes and broken dreams.
And yet
Scattered throughout the pages of this chapter
There is a wish
A dream
A captured breath
That says maybe, just maybe
What I’ve wanted all along will come to be.

I’m older and wiser than I was at seventeen.
Stronger and fiercer than ever.
My dreams are clutched tight in both hands
And this time I refuse to let them slip through like water.
This time I will release them into the air
One by one
Watch them sprout wings and fly
Flutter through the wind like dragonflies.
And maybe
Just maybe
They will come back to me
Land on my fingers and tell me stories of faraway lands
And long-lost hopes now forgotten.
They will tell me to wish upon a burning star
And continue to dream the most dangerous dreams.

Because the only dreams worth chasing
Are the ones with the potential to break you.