The Art of Release
I used to try to hold on
To every beautiful thing
That came my way
But now I know
That beauty is also found
In letting go
Celestial
Published in Kentucky’s Best Emerging Poets in 2018
You used to tell me that I was your star,
But you couldn’t have been more wrong.
I am all of the stars, the sun, and the moon.
I am a swirling, blazing galaxy
With more light and beauty than you could put into words.
But behind all of that,
I have the potential to explode,
To crumble in on myself and emerge even brighter than before,
Which is exactly what I did
When you left.
Empowerment
You were smart before that first gold star on your kindergarten paper
And you were beautiful before a boy ever told you that you were
You are so much more than others’ narrow-minded estimations
You are stardust and magic and mystery
Woven together with passion and purpose
Overflowing with enough love to drown the oceans
And wired to do the very things that people say you cannot do
For Atticus
I’m beginning to realize
That my light shines even brighter
When I’m honest
About the dark it has replaced.
So here’s to all the pieces of me –
The beautiful and the broken,
The strength and the shortcomings,
My dark between stars.
Full Bloom
A bouquet of springtime blossoms
Sits atop my desk
Vibrant, enthralling, captivating
Straining towards the light
Petals unfolding to soak up
Every drop,
Never worried about exposing
The intricate canvas of veins and bruises
Hidden inside.
Hope settles
Like a blanket of dew
On my parched soul
As a new thought dawns:
Perhaps the unpretty parts of me
Are nature’s greatest work of art,
And maybe the scars I’ve tried to hide
Look more like strength than weakness.
I have much to learn
From these simple buds
As their beauty beckons me
“Teach me how to bloom,”
I whisper.
“Teach me how to be.”
Living Color
When you were young
You believed in the infinite possibility of each day
You knew that you were special and significant –
A burst of colors yet to be named
In the midst of a black and white world
Your life was a blank canvas
Waiting to be covered
By splashes of vivid dreams
And splotches of crazy-enough-to-work ideas
That could come alive at any moment
But somewhere along the way
Cruel words from small-minded people
Stained that precious canvas like graffiti
Until you forgot the beauty and promise
Buried underneath
No one would gaze upon da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa”
Or marvel at Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”
And say, “This is not art”,
So why do you look in the mirror
With disgust and disdain
As if you are not
One of the most breathtaking works of art
Ever created
Your very existence is a triumph
That deserves to be put on display,
So I will use my words as an easel
To hold you up
When you can’t bear the weight
Of the voices in your head
That tell you you’re not good enough
I will write volumes of books
That repaint the picture
Of awe-inspiring you
And I will not stop
Until you see yourself anew
In living color
The Long Way Home
I have traveled many miles
On this road of love and loss
An aimless wanderer searching for safety
Trying to find shelter in people
Who couldn’t seem to make room
For all the love I had to give
And just when I thought
I had reached a dead end,
You stopped me in my tracks
With eyes full of adventures
I had always dreamed of taking,
A mind I never wanted to stop exploring,
And a smile that said,
“Welcome home. Put down your bags, and stay a while.”
Malnourished
After only two decades on this earth
We are expected
To have life all figured out
With the highest grades,
Connections in all the right places,
And a career we love
That puts us on a track to retired bliss
Pressured by adults
Who don masks of professionalism
Unwilling to admit that inside
They’re just as scared and clueless as we are
But they’ve perfected the art of hiding it
They forget we are all works in progress
With yellow caution tape binding our wounded hearts
Swallowing paradoxes of the need to fly under the radar
While still achieving our wildest dreams
Starved for love and connection
Fed by résumés and paychecks
And forced to call it fullness
A Masterpiece
Published in America’s Best Emerging Poets in 2018
You asked me what inspires me
To put pen to paper –
Which poet’s words make
My heart race,
My breath catch,
And my soul feel understood –
And I said,
”God.”
You wondered aloud
Which work of His is my favorite,
Expecting me to speak of
Sunsets and stars,
Mountains and moonlight,
But instead, I murmured,
”Only Love Himself
Could have formed
The exquisite masterpiece
That is you.”
Radiant
Published in America’s Best Emerging Poets: Southeast Edition in 2018
You light up my life
And you light up my phone
Your glow lingers with me
Wherever I go
Warm rays emanate
From each thing that you do
My dear, there is no one
More brilliant than you
Short Circuit
We live in a world that promises,
“There’s an app for that”
A quick fix in a few clicks
But what do we download
When “I would never leave you”
Turns into “I never loved you”
Or “best friend”
Becomes “stranger”
If these machines we use
Could feel the weight
Of the rejection we carry
They would short circuit
Because they were not meant
To bear the pain
Of searing loss
And neither were we
Unchanged
Expecting you to change is like
Expecting the sun to rise at night
Or the moon to shine by day
You are a force of nature
With a quiet inner strength
Unmoved and unmoving
And I know in my core
That nature is destined
To follow its rhythm
It will carry on unchanged
Without any help from me
And so will you
Unfiltered
Wading through a flood of images
Of glittering diamonds
And fairytale weddings
Each snapshot more posed and polished than the last
With captions that might as well read,
“You just don’t cut it”
And “You’ll never be this perfect”
And then suddenly, sweetly, miraculously
There was you
The realest thing in this airbrushed prison
That stays locked tight by likes, comments, and shares
You.
Untouched. Unfiltered. Unbothered.
Perfectly imperfect. And exactly what I needed.
Unplugged
When did we start to mistake
Likes on posts for love and respect
Or swipes on Tinder for proof of our worth
When did we begin to call
Snapchat streaks “communicating”
And Netflix and chill “bonding”
When did we start to believe
The fullness of our inbox
Could dictate the fullness of our hearts
And our Facebook friends
Could give us the connection we so desperately crave
When did we convince ourselves
That the right filter
Could magically erase our flaws
And smooth over the pain and loneliness and fear
That threatens to break through our carefully crafted facade
At any moment
What if we shut off the screens
Took a risk with the truth
And gave others the chance to say,
“Me, too” and “I understand”
Unplugged, unfiltered,
And finally free
Unwrapped
Published in Kentucky’s Best Emerging Poets in 2018
I’m not great at wrapping presents
I wouldn’t know quite where to start
It might not look the best, love,
But I’m giving you my heart.
It’s bruised in unseen places
Guarded under lock and key
But walls collapse and barred doors open
Every time you look at me.
They say home is where I’ll find it
I’d agree that’s very true
Because it feels like coming home, my dear,
Whenever I’m with you.
I won’t offer you exchanges
I can’t give you a receipt
For as long as it still beats, sweet one,
My heart is yours to keep.
Your Biggest Mistake
Today is your birthday, and I can’t help but wonder if my face is what will float into your mind when you close your eyes to blow out the candles and if you’ll secretly wish for me as the flames disappear, vanishing just as quickly as you did on that summer night a year ago. Maybe you’ll realize that all the presents in the world can’t replace the only gift you’ve been given that could love you back.
