I have a board on Pinterest
"Clothe Me" it's named
It's there I pin what I wish
I had to call my closet home

I yearn for these thing to make me,
To change how the outside looks
In hopes to find a match
For what I think my soul is

There are clothes of different trends,
Of different wishes and beliefs
Of who I am
But these trends don't correspond

Sometimes I wish how nice it'd be
To always be "glammed"  up,
Looking ready to take it on
And embrace something important

I also have pins of comfy clothes
That might reflect me
Or at least my wish to be someone
Who feels comfortable goin' with the flow

Some say "Why not be both?"
It's harder than it seems
When you want to throw yourself
Into a role and be sure that's who you are

Sometimes I fidget with it
I always know it's there
All it took was a little slit
For my ear to not be bare

Funny that to fill a hole in me
I first had to make one
A little silver heart was the key
To call my wish done

I love my little piece of art
A choice I'm glad I made
Up on my ear I wear my heart
Where as a cartilage earring it's stayed

There are some days where knowing what I lack
Rekindles an anger I don't know how to lessen
As I try to reach the knife lodged in my back

The blade sunk deeper and deeper over time
As the stabber kept holding on
Holding me back as I tried to climb

There was no fixing it, no hope
All I could finally do was leave
Believing space and time could help me cope

But bad days still appear suddenly before my face
Where I'm reminded of what I try to ignore
That the role of a mother can't be replaced

It takes so much effort to fake it again and again
To tell myself I don't need a mom, I'm fine
But words can't always hold back the pain

Of the knife she left in my back

People often crawl when desperate to carry on
I endeavor to keep what I don’t want to have gone
I need help to continue on the right way
For that is the reason I need someone to stay

People often walk when they want to ponder
You can walk with me because it’s in my mind you wander
I can’t not think of those I care about
For I don’t want any aspect of love left out

People often run when they have a destination
But sometimes I don’t have a concrete explanation
I need to wish and not let fear make me say no
For my heart doesn’t always tell me its plans and what it feels I know

People often jump when their hopes are rising
Sometimes I find what I feel when I look at you surprising
My hope is that time moves on without moving us two
For if I fall, I want it to be for and into you

People often fly when they know their potential is real
I smile because I sense possibility in what I feel
I want my happiness to elevate me to new heights
For I love that when in your arms I don’t want to say goodnight

The benefit of writing a poem of your own
Whether the words are fact or fiction
Will never be known

You can write out your soul
Hidden is the source of eloquence
Admitting you to write upon the scroll

Do the words come from experience
Or just curious, wondering thoughts
That are creating the beautiful cadence

The truth may even be both
Wondering at how things have changed
Through the times of hardship and growth

Of the meanings in each phrase
What is to be perceived?
Maybe that's the point of a transcribed maze

I can tell the truth without speaking
I can admit without looking into saddened eyes
I can dream without sleeping
I can convey a tone with my lips closed in disguise

I can let it all spill out knowing I can hit delete
I can think aloud in silence
I can let out a frantic cry and remain completely discreet
I can interchangeably exercise conformity and defiance

I can turn a wish into a goal with strokes on the keyboard
I can tend to my own wounds
I can create my own articulated rewards
Writing poems keeps my thoughts from swirling into typhoons

I've been with me for so long
What has happened over these passing years?
Have I just adapted to myself?
I am the only me I have known, which is my biggest fear

If the majority of people do something it seems normal
What about in the instances of hidden tears
Where I don't know what's right, wrong, up or down
And I don't understand what it is about me that must be unclear

What do I take as me and what do I take as shouldn't be
How much of me in my weakness did I engineer?
Can I be my own source of strength
I worry the answer that's true is the one I fear