It is December, and nobody asked if I was ready.
I love youas much as the oceankisses the shoreno matter how many timesit is sent away.
If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,You can let them look at you.But do not mistake eyes for hands,Or windows for mirrors.Let them see what a woman looks like.They may not have ever s...
Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.
To me, having the courage to tell your own story goes hand in hand with having the curiosity and humility to listen to others' stories.
Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.
It does not matter how strong your gravity is, we were always meant to fly.
I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you, and I choose both.
I love youas much as the oceankisses the shore
If I should have a daughter, instead of 'Mom,' she's gonna call me 'Point B,' because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint...
When I hear other people's stories, I like to believe that they contribute to my 'Encyclopedia of Human Experience.' The stories I hear help me expand my definition of what love is, what pain feels li...
My self-confidence can be measured out in teaspoons mixed into my poetry, and it still always tastes funny in my mouth.
Be careful, darling. Your footsteps land heavy here. Your racket will wake the dragons.
But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both
It does not matter how long we have been kept in cages. It does not matter how strong your gravity is. We were always meant to fly.
If loving you means getting dirty, bring on the grime.
Spoken word poetry is the art of performance poetry. I tell people it involves creating poetry that doesn't just want to sit on paper, that something about it demands it be heard out loud or witnessed...
My first spoken word poem, packed with all the wisdom of a 14-year-old, was about the injustice of being seen as unfeminine. The poem was very indignant, and mainly exaggerated, but the only spoken wo...
This is how I disappear in pieces.This is how I leave while not moving from my seat.This is how I dance away.This is how I'm gone before you wake.
People used to tell me that i had beautiful handstold me so often, in fact, that one day i started to believe them until i asked my photographer father, hey daddy could i be a hand modelto which he sa...