I hate boxes, straight edged rules and no exceptions, I love blurred visiuals the almosts and undicipherables. I crave bruises, pompous poppy signatures, signs of mischief and adventures. Do not box me or bruise me, let me be free and blurry, full of adrenaline and ugly laughter.

i am learning to find joy
wherever i find myself

we are the wives to society.
some like being married to the norms
& some of us like to cheat.
some of us are faithful,
to their husbands & to their faiths
children of god and servants to men
mistresses of second place.

I might not be a poet
And my words wont always rhyme,
But, they come from my soul,
My inner most thoughts,
My darkest dreams,
All tumbling out,
In words just as you see.

You think you know someone
until
they do everything in their power
to prove you wrong.

But the boy told the girl,
“I will always protect you.”
And, for the first time,
She believed him.

The boy told the girl,
“You are special.”
And, for the first time,
She believed him.

The boy told the girl,
“Your soul is made of pure gold.”
And, for the first time,
She believed him.

The boy told the girl,
“I love you.”
And, for the first time,
She believed him.