I write an incomplete poem when I think of you. the sudden echo of your laugh flows through my body I inevitable submit to the tiny butterflies in me Broken memories play a whisper a smile tiny conversations about nothing, about everything, again the tiny butterflies appear But it is always an incomplete poem, I can't finish it your smile stops your last cold words sink in I stop to write once again the tiny butterflies suddenly die

From nostalgia are made our memories a little kid cries inside between my lungs and the heart that empty space where the soul was I almost can touch her little eyes filled with tears a skin full scars she carries my pain so I can bare to stand up learn accept embrace heal little kid my own inside little girl please, stop the cry I am coming home tonight

When I miss you I bake the sweet kisses you gave me once can be replicated with some sugar my cookie heart put dark chocolate memories and some maple syrup because the blackness comes to eat me alive I bake wondering if you miss the softness of my skin eat them alone cry you alone miss you alone when I bake my cathartic act

We can transform the world drop by drop in watercolor from grayscale to a rainbow with music love writing our most beautiful poem singing our saddest song the pain goes with the wind reach others that share it let’s plant a flower and give it to the sun growth. We can write our true story stumbling crying laughing do it a bit better than before it is in our blood to breathe love let’s go and spread it

You have met them, you know them, maybe one of them from your work or school, in your circle of friends, could be even you brother (uh, that is scary). Maybe you had a crush on a bad boy, you dated one, you had sex with one (hopefully you did…

I honor my body and cry when I need laugh when bursts of happiness come I honor the kid in me when instead of judging because of the lies in my head -I am not enough and the need to hit random life milestones- I look inside me and see growth