She Sings

She wakes up alone and sings loudly

because the song is there and so is she.

That has to be enough

especially on mornings when it isn't.

She cries. At books. At Toy Story 3.

At the Goo Goo Dolls singing

I just want you to know who I am

like they wrote it for her.

Because it’s true.

She writes poems with sharp teeth.

Sad ones. Broken ones.

The kind that bleed all over the page

so she doesn't have to bandage her wrists.

She is as loyal as a dog

that gets left in the yard

but still wags its whole body

at the sound of footsteps.

She has never been stood up for.

Chosen out loud.

Loved in public,

the way she loves everything:

without apology, without restraint,

with her bluest brown-eyed

crying singing hoping

heart.

But the thing is

she still hopes

and each morning,

she wakes up

and sings.