I am part of a world that has yet to figure out what is important
I am from a town full of voiceless zombies

Repeating the same motions day by day
I am from a suffocating home where words are rarely exchanged

From the “How are you?’s,” replied with a “Good.”

I am telling you, that is not always true
I am from Iowa summers, looking up at the stars
I am from dream catchers, dirt, and dandelions
I am from Sundays spent hiding from the altar
I am from imagination

From places that don’t exist

From places I’ve made up in my mind over time
I am from an earlier decade

Peace.

Love.

Happiness.
I am the eye behind the lens, attempting to picture life in a different light

I am a vibrant portrait while everyone else is a blurry action shot
I am from the songs blaring through my headphones

Singing words everyone else is too scared to say
I am a listener, hopeful that one day somebody will listen to me
I am a girl, who will never be satisfied with the reflection in the mirror

I am from a world where the media defines the word ‘beautiful’
I am a messenger for those who have no voice
I am from unshared secrets; others are so judgmental
I am from constantly scattered thoughts

My brain is like a child with too many toys
I am my own person
I am lucky to be alive
I am here