I am made of passion and dreams and butterfly kisses.

My heart has been put together with pursued dreams.

Unfulfilled plans.

And everything in between.

There is a Pacific Northwest sunrise in my soul.

Ocean wind whistling through my open ears and eyes.

My brain is a mass of words made into a photograph.

The nerves are poems and scrambled sentences and senseless thoughts.

My spinal cord is four laps on a track.

Wooded running trails are my veins.

My heart is those early morning runs.

My blood is full of desiring excellence.

And the red is the love of my family.

Friends.

Mentors.

They have made me who I am.

From the coaches who taught me how to fly.

To my parents who taught me how to live.

To the teachers who taught me how to learn,

I am bits and pieces of them.

Putting them together is the hard part.

Making the jigsaw puzzle into me.

Into I am made to be.

I am made to run.

To fly in dreams.

To fly on the ground.                     

I am made to love.

To write.

To read.

To dream.

To be.

To be open.

To be passionate.

Vulnerable.

Joyful.

Broken.

Because I am the broken one too.

But aren’t we all?

People are just jigsaw puzzles.

Made out of broken pieces of hearts.

And shattered wine glasses.

With band-aids holding it all together.