mother

you have fire in your veins and you burn the air as you breathe it in. you are incinerating. creating beauty in the mere form of thoughts, caught behind your eyes, they make them shine like embers. I remember the first time I met you, the tips of your hair were bright red, and you said your father was a hairdresser. I thought that was rad. because my dad just worked for an oil company and I never thought it was interesting. But you looked like you had stories that needed telling. the way you carried yourself was compelling, as if you'd locked so many things in side you you couldn't help but drag your feet as you walked. But they were things you never talked about. I tried to pry them out but you clung to your secrets like a drowning man to a raft in a turbulent flow, afraid to let go. And one day i realized the only way to know, was to dive in with you. So i took off my shoes and swam in to that depth you kept tucked away, hidden beneath your wing like the whole world was hungry prey. But i wasn't just another hunter. For what it was worth I was more of a researcher. documenting a rare breed of woman, a seed fighting to germinate as everything threatened to terminate your determination, exterminate your foundations. and though your roots were resilient it still weakened you. I could see the cracks peeking through. hard as rock but soft as stone, you had grown in the hardest environment. fighting disillusionment in a world full of sinners by screaming from rooftops "listen world, I'm a winner, so don't try and take me down!" you've made a crown of flowers and you wear it like a queen, so much power for a girl of only nineteen


and it doesnt matter if you fell off that roof, because you had the strength to walk again. and its that very fact that makes me proud to call you my best friend.