i will celebrate the fact
that my life has been carved
into my skin for everyone 
to read.

i am no longer ashamed of
the way i laugh or  
the size of my heart– like
the bread we break,
take a piece
to keep in your pocket.
it will not grow stale,
i promise.

sometimes i feel i have enough
to feed the world.

this universe is a pitcher 
i cannot fill, though i pour
myself into it completely
inside 
out.

i devour authenticity
and the freedom of
opening my mouth and
letting whatever is inside
fall to the ground.