If it’s a penny for your thoughts
then it’s a bank in my head
where the automated teller
is swiping plastic cards instead

lately i've been mourning something.
i think i miss loving myself.
i grieve for the girl of sunlight and pride.
she is not here anymore,
what has taken her place feels like
the fog of no man's land.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

isn't it funny how
sometimes
the best things come out
after you're taken the fall.
how my heart had to break into a million pieces
before i realized what poured out of the cracks.
the potential to love
like a cup that's been filled too much
and it pours down the sides
and on your hands
and on the floor
and suddenly it's everywhere.
something so tiny, you didn't even know it was there
until it was plugged in
and now it's thousands of lights
that won't burn out.
you're blinded by the brightness
and you think "how could this all be contained inside me?"
and all you want to do is throw open the doors and invite everyone in because you know your heart can withstand it.
you know now you are strong enough to
love and break a billion times over.
so jump then fall and see what comes out.