The first time I saw a woman body
It was a delicate sweet flower
The ******* were perky and stuff
It was a sensual brew that sooth
There is a miracle in a woman touch
It's the sign of her reflection to mine

The first dream I had was with her
It was a taboo, a secretive rendezvous
Her lips were swollen with hasty lust
I was in her list and she followed
She swallowed her pride to touch me
I run for the fear of misjudgement

The first scream I had was with her
It was when I stopped my soul to want
To eat that fruit that wasn't masculine
To bathe in the summer fest and rivers
She crawled her nails, a scratch on me
She craved my source to hold her own

That was long ago, yet there is a wish
A call to taste her strawy honeyed set
To kiss her toes and finger her moles
Would she be part of a 3rd wheeler?
Rotate her hips as he ropes the pole
Whilst the other controls the rythym

She never knew that the color of her skin
Could define the type of person she was within

By simply taking a look at her face
You'd probably base her beauty on her race

"Am I Beautiful?" she asked.

*"You are beautiful, for a black girl"

You agitate, I soothe

I laugh, you cry

You procrastinate, I plan

I toil, you sleep

You mingle, I retreat

I reach, you blench

You deceive, I release

I purify, you violate

You mystify, I enlighten

I grow, You shrink

You ignore, I explore

I create, you destroy

You devour, I nibble

I give, you take

You walk, I run

I defend, you assault

You subtract, I add

*I love, you hate

how many times do you sit alone in your room whispering to yourself
"he doesn't love me"
over and over again
and when are you going to give up
and realize you've
been right all along.

Welcome to Cathytown where the grass is always pinker.
Where the moon and the sun fall in love and where everything's better when everyones together.
I had a heart to heart with my mum today, I was angry that.. She didn't understand me, I was afraid that she didn't love me and that it was my own fault.
She told me I couldn't be anymore wrong, that she shouts at me so I can grow, she's ******* me because...
Well, no one else is..
Not in Cathytown.

She said I have to grow up eventually, and see that the world isn't as sensitive as I'm going to be.
She said she loves me so much her heart hurts every time I stay out til midnight after every row and argument but she can't reach out because I'm too hurt to let her in.
She said I was born perfect, two eyes, two hands, two legs, perfectly healthy. So it hurts her when I say I'm not beautiful, not good enough.

Cathytown... Where dreams come true in a blink of an eye,
Cathytown, where friendship is forever
And true love can blossom and *** isn't as important as intimate conversations.

Please let me stay in Cathytown...
Where I can watch disneychannel and drink tea and make others happy by just being me..
I know I get sad sometimes,
But staying strong is my anthem
I know I get dramatic and weird and over emotional
... But hey, that's just me.

I haven't really been acquainted with happiness
Pain and suffering is what i've mostly felt
In fact....truth be told
It is grief that has kept me alive
My existence is pretty much defined by it
And yet somewhere inside of me there still resides this little hope
A hope that things will improve
A hope that my life will get better
A hope that i will get to taste happiness before i die
And it is hope that doesn't let me die
You see hope is a pretty powerful source of motivation
But it is an equally dangerous thing
For when hope dies
A part of your soul dies
But the heart is too naive to understand all these things
Like an adamant fighter it continues to hope