Reflection

For too long
I would
Snap a photo of
My father's daughter's
pretty painted face
So quick to add a filter
Not wanting to show
The real her
That I wake up to every morning
Covering the scars
And blemishes
To find the  perfect version
Of the perfect "self"
Spent too much time
Not knowing
That truly growing
Means having a life
With no filtered smiles
Growing up
Means throwing out
The fears
That yesteryear's
Brushes
Are your primary colors
Thinking that how others
See the you of you
Holds more value
Than the eyes in the mirror
Being true to who
You have become
Means finding value
In all the versions of you
Now, I  snap a photo
of my father's daughter's
Pretty face
So quick to add a smile
Knowing that I'm still growing
That the face
I see
Is the definition of beauty
Not an empty hunt
for perfection
But the reflection
of hope
Behind warm brown eyes
Beauty isn't
The curvature of
the ideal nose
Or perfect skin
It's being happy with
the body you live in
It's seeing that face
Looking back at you
in the mirror
And have no objection
About your reflection

Choices

What makes you?
What breaks you?
What builds you?
Is it the truth
or the dissolution of lies
you no longer desire to hide?
Now, I am a shattered woman
made whole
through broken pieces
glued together with
Elmers and hope.
Before, I was the girl
lost in the tall trees of
self hate
trying to negotiate
with other people's opinions
of my soul.
Now, I teach the youth
the truth
that choices
make you
break you
build you
not the untrue
gossip that drips
from someone else's lips.
A single moment can
alter the sands of history
and make opinions of you falter.
Waver like the flame dances
Looking for second chances
with the dark.
But the choices of tomorrow
can snuff out the
Voices of yesterday.

Onomatopoeia

I wrote my hopes and dreams 

On the skin of a balloon

Frail and thin 

Thinking it would make me fly 

So I pinned it to my chest 

And watched it pop.