her body's glazed with sugar
but her soul's made of spice
her grin is chaotic
but it melts down the ice
she howls for the moon
when it births her with light
she's made love with herself
she's made peace with the night
so why would you put her in a dress?
why would you comb her curls out?
why would you tell her to speak softly,
when her heart commands her to shout?
she was raised among wolves.
she did not grow with the roses.
you expect her to change.
well, the wolf in her opposes.
she is reckless.
she is free.
she is her.
she is me.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
her body's glazed with sugar
but her soul's made of spice
her grin is chaotic
but it melts down the ice
she howls for the moon
when it births her with light
she's made love with herself
she's made peace with the night
so why would you put her in a dress?
why would you comb her curls out?
why would you tell her to speak softly,
when her heart commands her to shout?
she was raised among wolves.
she did not grow with the roses.
you expect her to change.
well, the wolf in her opposes.
she is reckless.
she is free.
she is her.
she is me.
(c) ayesha. h [2o18]
