A soccer ball is kicked from a foot,
quickly rolling across the grass.
The grass understands the ball's duty,
and lets itself be flattened
from the glossy sphere.
It's trapped by a cleat
that rolls it away from others.
It chops it, spins it,
taps it in quick motions.
The ball is released again,
being manipulated,
but it's still given a chance
to be a hero.
It has a chance to score,
to make a difference in the game.
A soccer ball is kicked from a foot,
being manipulated, but still given chances.
There is nothing wrong with
wearing ribbons in your hair and
twirling in your plaid uniform skirt and
dressing like a tomboy sometimes and
refusing to let anyone tell you not to
wear your heart on your sleeve;
And yes,
you deserve one: you
who has stars in your eyes and
infinity running through your veins;
you, whose heart becomes so heavy
with the sunrise that you
How I wish I was a fairytale;
How I wish I wore gowns perfect
for twirling, and
how I wish I wore perfectly crisp
button-down shirts and
immaculately embroidered jerkins;
How I wish my eyeshadow really was
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