Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I'm honestly quite tired
of this game of push and pull
where I'm always the pawn
and you're always the Queen

I'm really quite exhausted
of all your extremes
of this anticipation,
as to when
or if ever-
you'll love me again

because, I haven't always been
a pawn, a toy
I haven't always been
something only yours

I had something once before
where I determined
what I was
But once upon a time
I loved you enough, to let you instead

So please, love me for me
or give me back myself
Because honestly, I'm quite tired
of such a game
as exhausting as you

Can you tell me
what its like
to fall
so very deeply
in love?

can you tell me what its like
to prioritise another breath
over your own

can you tell me why
i can't  fall in love

or am a monster
born to observe
but never have
anything
that is
love.

Every poem I wrote,
I wrote for you;
To try and erase
The wounds you left.

Today
I am writing for me,
Because I have realized
That these wounds will never
Disappear.

They will stay.

They will scar.

And they will be beautiful.

They will be gashes
In my flower petal skin
Sealed with gold,
Lacing me back together.

They will spill sunlight
And music
And all the venom
That you have filled me with
Will dissolve.

I will be new.

I will be fresh.

I will grow new
Flower petal skin.

There is no more whiskey
Left in my blood;
There is no more reason
To beg you to come home.

I am not a child,
I am
A woman king;

A flower who has been
Whiskey dipped.

And, regardless,
I have bloomed.

I want to break into your liquor cabinet
And write my name on the bottoms of all the bottles
So you can be reminded
Of why you're drinking in the first place.

we've sent six texts to each other
since I purged my heart to you last night
one of them was a genuine apology,
and one was a faked acceptance

it doesn't matter how many times I apologize
because no matter how hard I try to act differently,
I knew the moment that the liquor touched my lips
that I would confess something to you that I would later regret

Silly little scrawls
  on the back of notebook pages
   seem to hold, more of my heart
than I ever
                            gave out

Are you wasted?
        or gone?
                I dearly hope not.

Because,
                  I fear that I
                   have begun
                             to depend
                                         o n   y o u.

Don't waste away
            I beg you
             stay a little more
                      long enough
                            for me
                               To   l e t  g o .