We're boxed in and labeled before we're ever able to speak who we believe we are or who we dream we'll become.
Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.
We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
Know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay.
What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.
I’ve written this poem before but always through a window, never through an open door.