My heart is like a small tooth
with a cavity that is spreading
fast. My brain is like a 
damaged car that was running
with gas.
My priority is with me while
it lasts. My hope is what’s
not letting go, it grows
like grass.
I spread my arms out with much
ecstasy, and I sing uncontrollably
until I loose my voice.
My words is what lifts me up
the most. I choose how
to use them when talking
professional.
THIS, is my joy.

-Abigail Francisco