❁

the skylark summons the dead to rise as you watch with cloudy, wishful eyes

our sisterhood survives throughout the dark
they will never silence our voices
when we call to the tune, the world rejoices

wild child, living in a fantasy
wild child, the myth lives on within you
wild child, you create your own dreams
wild child, enchant them
do what you do

the white cat knocks over the lamp with a smile
a sea of tears flows from your eyes as deep as the Nile
a mirage is in sight, a vision it seems
the fabric of your sadness is ripped at the seams
we weave a spell together, fashioned stitch by stitch
you look to me and laugh, mischievous like a witch

our sisterhood still lives on through the dark as we wait for the time to leave our mark
they will never silence our voice
when the world calls our tune we will rejoice

fuera puera, vivens in autem fantasia
fuera puera, quod fabula vitae on intra vos
furea puera, vos creo tuus agnosco somniums
fuera puera
lamia
facio qualis vos facio

there is power in being a girl
but there's also sadness
                            struggle
                    ­        anger
                            uncertainty
and most of the time it's hard to find strength in being a girl
except in knowing that the sisterhood is rising,
we're coming,
a force to be reckoned with
and nothing to stop us

there is power in being a girl
and there is also inevitability

she's a jumping bean,
bouncing off walls,
breaking in her velvet muscles.

a princess crown encompasses her cranium,
eyelashes like butterfly wings,
fluttering in a breeze.

wearing tic-tacs for teeth,
a smile designed by blind men's hands,
construction of a masterpiece.

eyes aglow with eagerness,
bleeding aquamarine,
flooding my pupils with luminosity.

giggles like dandelion seedtips,
a supplementary appendage,
attached to my forearm.

she blankets me in gentle bear hugs,
curling around like pink yarn,
frayed at the edges.