I don’t know how it is I miss
These lips I’ve never known
The mouth I yearn to kiss
And arms that caress my flesh & bone

The time is at a stand still
My heart is next in line
And so I ask this against my will
What must I do to make you mine

We spoke of wishes
And past regrets,
Of friendships gained
And our favourite cigarettes.
We spoke of dreams
We’d soon forget,
Of lovers lost in
Our midnight bed.
We spoke of hearts
And the letters we dread,
Of how we still yearn
The things they said.
We spoke of wonders
And the magic above,
But most of all
We spoke of love.

She needs no help,
She’s enough for herself.
She stands tall,
She’s her all.

She’s going to come out strong,
She will prove your chauvinism wrong.
She will plant flowers in barren land,
You’ll regret making her feel like she’s secondhand.


She will wear a halo so bright; you’ll need an extra pair of eyes.
She will claim her winning prize, while you beg and apologize.
And now to summarize,
She’s strong, independent and wise; you should probably try to compromise.
Or find a suitable disguise and this is my last piece of advice

I am not my body, I am my soul.
I am not my body, I’m much more.

I am not the ice creams, that find their way to my thighs,
I am not a thing to be objectified.

I am not the pimples scattered across my face like an unaligned constellation,
I am not bound to always provide you satisfaction.

I am not the stretch marks that you so playfully shun,
I may not always be finished when you are done.

I am not just a pair of *******,
I am a hurl of emotions in a tempest.

I am not just another juicy ***,
Think twice before you say another condescending sentence.

I am the moon the sun and the stars freely dancing to the rhythm of the wind,
I am the flowers blossoming in the season of spring.

I am love and heartbreak art and music ,
I am the glimmer in your eye and the comfort when you fall sick.

I am the eye of a hurricane,
And the celebratory glass of champagne.

&
My body is a temple
A place of worship