Tell me about your painting
how it adorns your skin,
call it art,
as your flesh rips apart,
the blood soon sinks in.

Tell me about the constellations,
about the ripples in the waves.
Let my finger trace your arms
gently,
guiding through the stars
as you turn your face away.

Let the night be one,
together we can be as dark as the setting sun.
Let me kiss my lips, to your scars
memories flow jaggedly, afar.

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose,
And the pear is, and so’s
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose—
But were always a rose.

Sometimes we need to slow our pace
To breathe, to find a quieter space.
To feel the sun in gentle grace
And watch the leaves drift from their place.

Sometimes we're lost, unsure, undone
But all we need is lift our eyes to sun.
She shines so high, her warmth so near
Like moonlight soft when night draws near.

In every shadow, light will hide
In every storm, the tides subside.
So take a breath, let peace abide
Everything will turn, be still inside.

i don’t just crave validation,
i need it.
i need it like some people need a drink in their hands,
i need it like it’s the cigarette between my lips.

it’s the air in my lungs,
my food and my drink.
it’s not just music to my ears—
it’s the only sound i hear.

i know i’m not your favorite,
not really.
but you told me i was,
three months ago.
and i wrote that in my journal.
i etched that in my heart.

i hold up my poems,
these nonsense words i call art,
and i need a compliment,
i need a hug.
so that i know i’m not just some girl,
the girl you whisper about when she’s not there.
so that i know
there’s a reason i give and give.

so that i know i’m someone’s favorite.