high in the sky

the stars you see are so close
you can almost feel
the burning sensation on your fingertips
as your hand reaches,
fingers stretched so far,
gravity has almost taken them.

but your feet are still here,
but not leaving what they are rooted to.

they tell you to reach for your dreams,
reach for that star,
and hold it until your hands have
third degree burns.

but they aren’t telling you
about what you’re leaving back
on earth.

beautiful thoughts

I was born with stars
that created constellations
on my cheekbones.
I was born with a beautiful mane,
that created a waterfall of
cascading curls that fall
from the tip of my head
to the bottom of my tailbone.
I was born with lips
that cupid himself
could fall in love with.
I was born with a mind of great thoughts
and the compulsion to speak them.

its a shame my perfect lips
have been sewn shut
by a person who thinks
that someone with a beautiful face
certaintly cant have
beautiful thoughts.

a dull face

I don’t have constellations
scattered across my cheekbones,
or a waterfall down my back
in cascading curls all the way
to my tail bone.
I just don’t.
I have nothing to set me apart
from your other admirers.
how did I stack up to them?
why was I the one
you chose?