I found the bag of Pixy Stix
I'd once so carefully picked.
I remembered the anxiety
From when you bought it for me.
I knew it would cost too much
So I used indecisiveness as my crutch.
You must've wondered who made me question my worth.
Who made me think $1.69 was something I didn't deserve.

I don't need to know my numbers,
because I am aware of my worth.
But to you, it either doesn't count.

This is the age.


The age of standing up for yourself no matter what knocks you down.

The age of being a warrior through and through but also knowing it's okay to break down some times.

The age of knowing your worth and accepting nothing less.

The age of power among women, lifting each other up instead of ruthlessly tearing each other down.


There is no sense in stepping on your fellow woman as she is up against the same enemy you are. You know that saying, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend"? Well, let's put that into practice. Let's stand hand in hand with the women beside us because we cannot and will not be trampled. We have strength, worth, intellect, and kindness - the most lethal combination. Don't prove to others that you are powerful, you don't need their validation. Instead constantly show it to yourself. Emulate that bravery and despite what others believe, you will topple even the tallest mountains.


This is the age.

The age of women.





-t.s.

A child begins reading a story
Both have never been betrayed
An eternal bond was made
Yet betrayals are left in their wake
A sacrifice decided, all for its sake
The story continues moving forth
Gambling it's own questionable worth
Seeking a burning flame, a friend
One who will bring the abrupt end
To this garrulous, suffering cage
Even though the Ink rewrites the page
Corrupted by ideas of ****** glory

If I asked you
To prove yourself



Would you?