stalwart mind, reckless heart

the heart and the mind

they fight

and fight

and fight

I am a worn torn state
the chest cavity a barren ruin
the skull a smouldering crater

the mind tells me no
don't do that
it'll only lead to trouble

the heart tells me yes
take a chance
break me and then patch me up again

the mind is sensible,
reliable
the type of boy that you'd bring home to meet the parents over thanksgiving

the heart is wild,
reckless
the type of boy that every father has nightmares about

and while the heart might drive too fast and smoke too much
I've come to see the method to his madness
because while he may be nursing a nasty gambling habit,
when he gets it right,
all doubt and fear and trepidation is eviscerated
with only happiness in its place

so it's time for a surrender
a wave of that white flag
because while the mind might be a trustworthy GPS
I've always preferred the challenge of reading a map
there's a sort of beauty in unpredictability
so mr. heart
take the wheel
I'm all yours.

not like the other girls

"I'm not like the other girls."
Congratulations! Your mother must be so proud.
But if you don't mind me asking....
What's so wrong with them?

"I'm not like the other girls."
Because she wears high heels and you wear sneakers
Because she paints on her confidence with a tube of red lipstick,
and you'd much rather go bare.

"I'm not like the other girls."
I didn't know your penchant for classic novels made you better than her,
she only reads John Green books,
and heaven forbid someone read something that can't be dissected twenty different ways in a classroom.

"I'm not like the other girls."
You whisper as you see her walk into the party,
Wearing a skirt that resides on the corner of slut and whore
And you wear your worn pair of blue jeans like a medal of honor.

"I'm not like the other girls."
Taylor swift, you know I love you..
But shaming the slut should be left in the sixth grade.
Your t-shirts aren't superior to her short skirts
and why does it matter if she's cheer captain?
                                                                   

                                                                      

Degrading someone for their sexuality is a new name for an old game
and frankly, it's about time someone flashes that GAME OVER screen.
Stop the hate.
I, for one, would love to be known as someone "like the other girls."
You are all beautiful.
Strong.
Resilient.
And perfect in your own way.

So let the sun keep shining on your faces,
All of you
Don't let the clouds of shame darken your disposition.
Your choices are just that-yours.

Do a duck-face.
Go to that party.
Join the cheer squad
 or
Write poetry
Stay tucked away in bed on Friday nights,
Join the marching band

But whatever you do,
Don't you dare make someone feel dirty or
inferior for their choices.
And just know,


I'd be honored to be like all of you.

For Them.

he was in the dark
and he didn't know how to get out
now he's gone
and we're just shattered pieces of glass

it's better where they are,
that I can say for certain
and while we're here and they're not
(and it hurts like hell)
we will be with them soon enough
I'll see my sister
You'll see your brother
We'll see our friends
all gone too soon
but until then,

don't

forget

to live

don't let his struggle be in vain
or hers
or theirs
because dead ends breed new life
don't let them be forgotten
live for them

send giddy peals of laughter up into the clear blue sky
past the milky way
straight into heaven
laugh for them

dance wildly and passionately
let your limbs flail and let your heart race
throw all insecurity to the wind
dance for them

sing along to your favorite songs
no matter how bad you are
let the music fill you with life
sing for them

don't let anyone wander alone
be a beacon of light for those in the dark
pull them out of the abyss
love for them

hug your mother
travel to a strange new country
go to college
make new friends
be kind to strangers
make a difference in the world
live for them

because it is through us that they live on,
in every technicolor memory shared around kitchen tables,
tears twinged with joy
in every photograph painstakingly hung on bedroom walls
looked upon with fondness and love
in every laugh line
in every kind word
in everything
everything
we do

live for them.

it's the least we can do.