he'll call you pretty
he'll capture you with the sparkle of his brown eyes
and melodic laugh that'll ring in your ears for days
after the moment passed

things will escalate
your heart will race each time you hear his name
you'll admit to liking him
he'll say he feels the same

his lips will taste like honey
you'll love the taste, it'll be your  new favourite flavour
but honey gets too sickly when you eat too much

he'll call you good girl
then you'll realise,
you're not the only one who's been eating honey.

it was your voice
that's how all of this happened
a vibration of aether and lies
slithering from your beautiful mouth
I needed fresh air
and I was weary from the truth
your sound, your hymn,
was weighed down with blood and honey,
chains for my insecurities,
and a soothing balm for the chaos in my life
it was your voice
beautifully, deliciously venomous
and I drank willingly from your kiss
ignoring the taste of embers
exhaling empty smoke and black promises

Always calling me sweet
as if my name somehow tastes pleasant
when you attempt to form sentences powdered with more
saccharine
than me?
Listen up honey,
you're well aware of the outcome of this prolonged sugar
so swallow your
treacle words
(unless toothaches are your thing.)

// if anything, i'm
bittersweet //

An ancient sage suddenly appeared at my feet.
She placed her hand upon my heart and whispered,
"This is your destiny."

A woman in black with hair as gold as the sun took my hand.
She said, "Close your eyes. Open your mind. Feel the power of this land."
She said, "Daughter of my daughter's daughter; blood of mine.
We've been waiting for all your life. It's finally time
to rise. It's time to fight."

A band of ancient shamans stopped me in my tracks.
They placed their magic on me and said, "You can never go back." They said, "Sister, on her hero's journey, take our hands.
We've been waiting for all our lives. Here we stand
to rise."

We can't wait any longer.
We can't hide the fire that's been burning ever stronger.
We can't deny. It's time
to rise. It's time to fight.

It's time to rise. It's time to fight.

A sunflower looking for its sun,
A candle looking for its match,
Stick with whom, with you?

A moon looking for the sun,
A bee looking for its queen,
Sizing things up, with no one?

A sun waiting for you to bloom,
A match waiting to be lit,
Upside down, back to you.

A sun waiting to be found,
A queen waiting for its honey,
Bunch of thoughts, I'm alone.

He drags his fingers across my lips like honey,
But his touch will always be sweeter than his intentions.