Spiritual or religious. Which will you be? Society, asks of me. Inscribe my name on the list. I said, Of which has more compassion in it.

Some days are heavy. Not meant to be carried alone.

Toxicity isn’t always a harsh tone or a bruise. Often it’s a “this is who I am.” Often it’s a “I’ll change” Void of when.

Never give a human the job of making you happy. Some days, they might call you sick. Other days they might call quit.

I have felt warmth in lies, and coldness in truth. This is how I know that morality, transcends the physicality of temperatures.

Fear, is a curtain telling you she’s a door walkthrough.

It is the silliness of youth to trust time.

I used to believe that living is doing, moving, getting. But, there is life in staying still. A bird is a bird even when she isn’t flying.

No, I’m not one to go in pursuit of happiness. It is common knowledge, is it not? That what is chased after will run.

We were purple, one day, we felt whole the next day split apart into red and blue.

What’s lost, can be found. What’s broken, may be fixed. But what lives in denial of either of these will remain as it is.

A problem ignored, has two outcomes. The illusion that it is gone, and the reality of one problem becoming more.

Be careful out there; I hear humans get killed for wearing the wrong skin.

Every human carries a heavy past. But the good thing about what can be carried, is that it can also be put down.

I have seen humans call for “change” only to bid her go home, and return on a more convenient date.

You were fully clothed in lies, I was naked in truth. Still, when morning came It was I who survived the cold.

There is no such thing as ‘little’ acts of kindness. Every kind act, is grand powerful. Meant to take up space.

“Spiritual or religious. Which will you be? Society, asks of me. Inscribe my name on the list. I said, Of which has more compassion in it.”