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Created by perfection,
Not from without but with great intention,
Physically,you're flawless.
From your toes to your face,
Upto the longest strand of your hair,
Believing this may be a great dare,
But its true,
Its true that the flaws flow from within you,
Not your body,physique or biological make up but the mind,
And to this notion;most of us are blind.
Accepting and loving yourself the way you are,
Makes you shine flawlessly like a star.
Flawlessness isn't in having no scars,or blemishes or birthmarks or whatever,its in accepting all those things and embracing them,if you'd like to change;do that but atleast accept them and embrace them(part of life).
By the way,I'm speaking of physical flawlessness..my own views,I really don't know about those of "society"(whoever makes up society "rules"/whoever "society" is) .
This is for all:men,women,girls,boys.
Thanks for reading!!!!! :) :*
 Dec 2015 Ofelia Rose
kennedy
perhaps I've lost my mind
from all the red lighters
the aching in my stomach
it craves the chemicals
chemicals that warp my dreams
distort my deepest desires
I see cigarette burns
I see glossy red eyes
In a broken mirror
why do I search for bliss
in strangers and amber bottles
In pain and indifferent lovers
spasms of unbearable pleasure
course through me like a treasure
spawned upon a bohemian island
when i behold you, beauty incarnate
you're the epitome of accomplishment
an apotheosis of the woman of the age
your eyes are a velvety soft hue
your chin is a stroke of aesthetic genius
you have a fine finish like prettiest silk
and you're an open book of life, to read
at leisure 'neath a flamboyant tree in bloom
woman let me serenade you with this poem
let me sing of the passion in your eyes
let me wax lyrical about your coy mouth
lead me to a tropical hideaway
then banish all things negative , and
let me be your obsession through life
as we stroll together towards the rising sun
final version
 Dec 2015 Ofelia Rose
Tatiana
Say something witty
Don't lose your mind
Whatever you do
Always say that you're fine
Because people can't know
How you feel when the snow
Piles up too high
Where you can't see the sky
Don't say that word
That was all you heard
As people complained
About the sound of the bird
But now that bird is gone
Just as quick as dawn
And in the meadow full of snow
Lay a sleeping fawn
And everybody knows
How that story goes
When the innocent is left
To the hands of its foes
Without their protector
They are open
To all forms of attacks
That they will rope in
And I hate to see
Just how nature can be
Especially when I'm not speaking of
the nature of animals around me
Dear dream girl,

Before I let the words unfurl
Let me thank you for meeting me there.
It's a place I know but have never been,
It's ground soft, like a nostalgic sin,
And I wait,
Wait for a sound or a feeling,
Sortof sitting, sortof kneeling,
You are there.
How you found the lair,
Or why we started talking were questions
I would not far,
to ask or know
Your face would change in your tone,
I had my bottle and you had your phone,
But neither of us would let go of them.
You didn't like talking unless I said something first,
And I was always left with a thirst.
There were walls like we were somewhere artificial,
Manufactured for a short use time;
I didn't reply, but you said "it will be fine".

The walls have reel to reel projectors,
With a hum of ghostly patriotic defectors,
With a weird blue tint,
Memories of terrible heartache stints,
My demons playing on the left
Every time I yelled or was jealous,
And zooming in it shows your smile
Or the sadness on the other end of the phone,
Or the craving to be with me at home,
And on the right was you putting walls up,
Fighting on things that now really don't matter,
Zooming in on me smiling,
Or the me just getting sadder.

I asked you to meet me here tomorrow,
Because I'll take all the time I can borrow,
The door closes,
And I'm awake.

From toes still in the water,
With love.
 Dec 2015 Ofelia Rose
ukown
When, words & pen
She were mine? I think!
Everyday i wish, but!
Life, asking destiny
Which right before done!
Poor but poor!
They wish, i wish too
Discover the open door
Poor, but!
We smell flowers to prove
That we exist too, like perfume
Poor, but!
We breathe for spin that blood
This love!
keep us Poor
 Dec 2015 Ofelia Rose
Sixolile
Where do I begin? -
- Is a sentence even enough?

Excitement, odd excitement;
- my initial response.

The sort of excitement a parent has,
over hearing their young utter their first, full word.

That thrilling excitement, which overwhelms you;
as you sit and engaged in your first adult conversation,
with your parents.

Where do I even begin?
- the concealed excitement,
at your first date.

The introverted excitement you have -
as you tap your feet, while squandering a conversation,
with your first love.

But, where do I begin, I contemplated.

The excitement, a foolish one at that,
that makes you sing out your favourite love song;
while aware of the fact you are an awful singer.

The excitement, that nervous, yet squirm in excitement -
as you lean in for your first kiss.

What was your question?
I asked of her to reiterate.

Wandering, contemplating.
How she could sound so pleasant and ****,
while she maunders?

Excitement? I ask, rhetorically.
As I wonder how she sounds so beautiful,
without making any sense.

That kind of excitement.

But, she enquired for a single sentence.

I had more than one.

So, to single one out, I breathed slowly, paused;
- Can I get an endless day, where I am excited to be in your presence?
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