Forget Me Not

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Forget me not,
when I go,
because the world won't remember.

My life will be gone
like a whisper in the breeze,
there one moment,
disappeared the next.
You have to strain your ears
in order to catch it.
But even then,
there's no way to know
if you've heard it correctly.

But, I suppose that's normal
for must of our lives.
We're just regular people.
Average Joe's and Josine's.
We're not stars.
We're not celebrities.
Our lives are not as big.
But if we can touch one person...
at least one person's life,
maybe our name can go on
even after we die.

So, forget me not,
when I go,
because the world won't remember.

Inadequacy

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Inadequacy is a normal fear,
most of us feel it when others are near.
For instance when you and your buddies go for a beer,
there's this gorgeous brunette at the bar whose got a nice rear -
view mirror, on her car, outside... you saw her come in.

Inadequacy.
The feeling of feeling not good enough.
But who labels us with this awful word
when we try and we try until trying's absurd?
We won't stop until affirmation is procured
but even then, we can't believe what we've heard.
How sad is that?
Always to feel like the worst?
Things are OK, things are fine, then someone
surpasses you and your bubble bursts.

Like the girl sitting at the end of the bar.
She see's you checking out the brunette from afar.
Compared to the brunette she feels like fat lard,
she covers her belly and puts up her guard,
even though she really is beautiful.

We're always vying to be something we're not,
aiming for movie star looks without movie plots,
emanating each other as if we're robots.
It's time to press the off button and climb out of this box
and put together the shreds of ourselves before it all rots.

We have to accept our differences
and sew back the pieces.
Using needle and thread we renew our leases,
to be who we are,
not living on other people's visas,
watching each other live like we're official scorekeepers,
wishing we could trade out all of our interesting features.

What's the point in being the same?
If we were the same we'd wish we were different.
We aren't born in a factory and maybe this reminder will eclipse it.
None of us are perfect.

That brunette hottie you're checking out at the bar?
She's on her 5th vodka straight
because she doesn't like who she is.
Nobody treats her seriously because of her looks.
They act like she's not smart enough to open a book.
Beauty Queen, maybe, but she wants to be more.
She sees the girl at the end of the bar staring at the floor
and wishes they could change places.

Inadequacy, you see, in inherent in us all.
It could be life changing or it could be something small.
Be different, be brave... if you have the gall.

The Waters

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The waters, they're rushing.
Rushing.
Rushing.
The waters, they're rushing,
not stopping,
unrelenting.

They're swift,
they're fast,
they're making their own path.
The waters, they're rushing.
Rushing.
Rushing.

They break whatever holds them
with sheer force and power.
So strong, so mighty
but that can change in an hour.

They're so inviting,
so enticing.
Come on, dear, take a dip.
But be careful,
they may push you
just enough to make you slip.

Soon you'll be traveling fast
down a slippery slope
with nothing to hold onto.
So be careful,
Mother Nature
can come back to haunt you.

Look Up

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I look at you all
from my perch up high,
I look at you all
mosey on by.

It's easier to put into perspective
when you take a step back
and ponder, for a moment
if you're on the right track.

I see all of you
and your missed connections,
cell phones and self absorption
has all your attention.

There are people,
so many people
passing each other on the street.
Take a moment,
look up,
you never know who you'll meet.

I look at you all
from my perch up high,
I look at you all
mosey on by.

Stolen Away

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Do you know
where innocence goes
once it's stolen away?

A darkened place
full of empty space
where children's smiles go to waste
and evil monsters like the taste
of what was once so pure.

One it's taken
we can't get it back,
ripped away
leaving nothing to grasp
or hold onto.

Darkness, darkness
goodbye light.
We've been forced to grow up too fast now
against all that's right.

Do you know
where innocence goes
once it's stolen away?

A darkened place
full of empty space
where children's smiles go to waste.

All the Good Things

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Lollipops, lemondrops,
kittens and rainbows,
puppies and bunnies
can affect how my day goes.

Rain showers,
yellow flowers,
blue skies,
and butterflies.

Fresh cut grass,
the sound of jazz,
baby ducks,
children running amok.

Chocolate,
popcorn,
cotton candy,
snickers - so delicious I don't even care
that my thighs are getting thicker.

Sunsets and a swift breeze,
fireflies and tall trees.
All of the good things
that I love to see,
all of the good things
that make me happy.

Spring

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Golden red rays filter through the trees,
the flowers below swarming with bees,
there's a smell of honeysuckle floating on the breeze.
Welcome, welcome,
to the beginning of Spring.

Birds whistle sweet songs to each other
as they build nests to offer their babies cover.
They fly high in the sky
to glider and to hover.
Welcome, welcome
to the beginning of Spring.

Caterpillars cocoon and begin to molt
into these creatures that are beautiful to behold.
Their lovely colors are incredibly bold.
Welcome, welcome
to the beginning of Spring.

Children are running outside
and they're laughing.
Playing some game their adults might find baffling,
but that might make it all the more fun
as they continue to chase and play in the sun.
Welcome, welcome
to the beginning of Spring.

Caged by Society

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So you've got some extra lovin',
most women do.
Perfection is a fallacy,
no matter what the magazines
are telling you.

The beauty is in being different,
not in being the same.
Love yourself in the skin you're in,
don't play societys game.

They tell you that to fit in
you should be small,
with super model height at 6 feet tall.
Your skin should be clear,
your teeth should be straight,
if you don't contour - you won't get a date.

Your lashes should be curled,
your cheeks should have blush.
Don't forget to draw in those brows, girl.
Go all in, or bust.

If you have acne,
that's okay - just conceal it.
Put more make-up on your face,
that is society's tip.

You need to lose weight?
Just start eating less,
or don't eat at all
so you can fit in that dress.

Wrinkles near your eyes?
We have creams for that.
We'll do anything to stop natural aging,
like Botox, face lifts....
It's all a trap.

They make you not like yourself
the way that you were born.
We're losing ourselves piece by piece,
and not realizing it's a cause to mourn.

You are INCREDIBLE just as you are,
with every little one of your scars,
with every little part of you that makes you stand out...
Love who you are,
it's what life is all about.

Youthful Ignorance

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Let's go party.
Let's get drunk.
Let's go wild with pills and drugs.
We need to be intoxicated to have fun,
this world will never tame us.

That close-minded thinking
will get you into trouble
when you're trapped traveling
in a downward spiraling bubble.

It's okay to have fun
when you're young,
but you need to be smart
before someone who loves you
is forced to suffer a broken heart.

When you're buried underground
the world above you continues,
and all that's left is the sound
of a 'died too young' tribute.

You. Are. Not. Invincible.

Drowning in Depression

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I'm underwater.
Drowning, drowning.
My fingernails are reaching but I just continue sinking.

I live down there,
in the dark, in the deep.
I try to escape,
but I can't swim free.

It's a dungeon-less dungeon,
a cage for my mind.
I'm desperate for light
that I can never find.

I'm terrified.
I've seen things down here,
the darkest recesses of my soul
leaves me shaking in fear.

Monsters in the form of thoughts,
snarling and ravaging
as the best of me rots.

Eyes peer down
from somewhere above:
pitying eyes,
hidden by love.

They put on their wet suits
and jump into the pool,
but refuse to swim in the deep end -
where all of my demons rule.

After a while they get tired of waiting,
I try to swim up with them
but their light is quickly fading.

I'm underwater.
Drowning, drowning.
I live down there,
in the dark, in the deep.
I try to escape,
but I can't swim free.

Hey There, Sweet Stuff

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Hey, baby,
what's your name?
Come a little closer,
let me see that pretty face.

How old are you?
Wanna hook up?
How much do you weigh?
What size is your bra cup?

Do you have Snapchat?
What about Tinder,
or Kik?
If you're looking for a good time,
you're my type of chick.

Where did we go wrong in society
for people to think this is OK?
To treat young girls and women
like they're pieces of meat
on a silver tray?

These are daughters, sisters,
cousins, and mothers.
Would you treat your OWN family this way?
As you do to another?

You need to change your way of thinking,
in fact, the whole world does.
Learn to adjust your way of speaking,
if not for your family, do it because...

Young girls are growing up believing their value is in their face,
when it's really their MINDS that matter,
not the size of their waists.

Constantly sexualized, generalized,
vulgarized, and demoralized,
they're seeing these things through impressionable eyes.

So take a minute,
and think about what you're going to say.
This could be your sister, daughter, or mother being treated this way.

Change is Coming

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The trees whisper to me,
softly, gently.
The breeze rustles through my hair,
as if to say "Change is coming."
I look out
beyond myself, beyond the landscape,
beyond the earth, beyond the universe
and wonder...
What is death, truly?
Death of a pet, a person, of a dream?
What is death?
Is it truly an ending?
Or is death just a word we use because we have to categorize
and compartmentalize
the things that truly mystify?
The trees whisper to me,
softly, gently,
as if to say "Change is coming."

Blindness Cured

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Sadness, feelings, mixed emotions.
I'm breaking free from this misguided devotion.

We're family, or so I thought,
but family doesn't leave family to rot
in a place so dark and cold they can't get out,
and you just watch and laugh as they're breaking down
into dust.

Your words are like razor-blades across my skin,
my skin, so thin.
They slice and dice and do their damage,
wreaking havoc and mayhem and adding baggage
to an already full suitcase.

I've always wondered what it is I've done.
If it's because I'm the daughter who flies too close to the sun.
Letting the light in,
and forcing out your dark.
Realizing that you have nothing
more than your bark
to hurt me.

Despite your attempt to decimate my character
by spreading lies and gossip that depict a false caricature
of who I am,
I remain true.

Sadness, feelings, mixed emotions.
I'm breaking free from this misguided devotion.
You can try to stop me,
but I don't think you will.
It's too easy for you to hate,
or simply not feel.

So, I'm sorry.
Not though, in the way that you're thinking.
I'm sorry your heart is hardened and sinking.
Further away
into the deep blue sea,
where light cannot touch,
where love cannot be.

Dancing with Darkness

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A darkened night,
world devoid of light.
A girl walks alone
trying to atone.
It's nothing that she did,
it's just because she is

different.

She must rely on herself
to take away her own sadness
by bringing a light to the world
where she finds only madness.

Tears stream down her face,
but she must move forward.
The darkness is gaining,
always waiting for her.

One step ahead,
two steps back,
three skips one way,
she's losing track.

Sunlight breaks through the trees,
just a bit that she can see.
But it's there with an unspoken call
to give her hope when she feels small.

It's okay, it says...
to be different.

The Chasm

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Cracks, cracks
broken glass.
Shattered mirrors,
a pain that lasts.

Whispering,
screaming,
it's growing louder.
Your calm blows away
like translucent powder.

Panicking, panicking
you need to get free!
You're dying inside,
can no on else see?

Run, run
faster, faster.
Danger is lurking,
it's pulling you backwards,
ripping at you with maniacal laughter,
you will never get out.

You're tearing at the walls again,
the walls,
the walls,
the walls of your skin.
Fingernails breaking,
your whole world is quaking,
your soul for the taking,
you will never get out.

Stereotypical Mayhem

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We have to fight
the stereotypes
that try to hold us down.

We should not,
nor should we ever have been
classified
before we begin.

Placed in a box
based upon race,
based upon gender,
based upon face.

Go get a frappuccino, white girl.
Purchase it with privilege.
Take another selfie, girl.
Put a filter on that image.

It doesn't matter who you are,
putting classifications on others is going too far.
You can't judge a persons heart by the color of their skin.
The color of skin is no indication of sin.

The only way to know is to look at their actions,
pay attention closely
before you cause any traction.

Just because I'm white,
doesn't mean I'm basic.
We look the same underneath,
it'd be easier if you'd just face it.

Selfies On Point

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Selfies here
selfies there
selfies, selfies everywhere.

It doesn't matter where you go,
you have to snap at least one photo.
If you don't,
the people will know
that your life isn't all sunshine and rainbows.

Selfies here
selfies there
selfies, selfies everywhere.

In a plane,
on a bus,
in the bakery
buying cinnamon buns.

Before class,
in class,
after class, too.
If you don't post a selfie,
no one will know you're even at school.

In the bathroom,
on a date.
Because of the bathroom selfie,
you were late.

Perfect hair,
just the right angle.
You're selfie game is on point!
Oooh, is that a selfie with a bagel??

At the doctor,
at the dentist,
in the gym
while you're flexin'.

In the park,
in the zoo,
all the animals
are staring at you.

In the grocery store,
in aisle three,
you need to take
a wheat bread selfie.

56 selfies you do,
per week,
just because those brows are on fleek.

Selfies here
selfies there
selfies, selfies everywhere.

The Smell of Adventure

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Don't you ever crave it?
An adventure, that is?
The smell of freedom on an open road,
that's the smell of bliss.

This feeling overcomes me,
every few months,
I need to go exploring,
to experience all that I can, at least once.

Some people go all their lives
never having an interest in travel.
It's like soul food for me,
without it I'm sure to unravel.

The thought of seeing something new
I've never seen before
gives me such hope renewed,
my wanderlust will always demand more.

It eats away at my soul sometimes,
if I don't feed the beast.
I pay in anxiety and panic as the fines
for not allowing it to feast.

Don't you ever crave it?
An adventure, that is?
The smell of freedom on an open road,
that's the smell of bliss.