Some fathers clip the wings of their daughters.
Not her dad
He taught his girl how to spread her wings and fly
Up past the fog and confusion
Allowing her to touch the stars
And her dreams
Some fathers clip the wings of their daughters.
Not her dad
He taught his girl how to spread her wings and fly
Up past the fog and confusion
Allowing her to touch the stars
And her dreams
A mother’s love comes in all forms
She has no children of her own
Instead, raised and cared for the broken, battered, and torn
Tried to show them love isn’t always blood and bone
It’s that time of year again
Roses, sweet chocolates, and besotted kisses
Keep them
Give me passion, your heart
I want years, not moments
No flowers or sugary sweetness
I’ll take your flaws, laughter, and love
You’re my favorite, sweet song
The only place I want to belong
I savor your salacious melody
And guard it with jealousy
Together we make such beautiful music
Stripped down to a sensual, perfect acoustic
What I’ve seen in this world
What has been done to me
What I’ve done to others
Makes my soul bleed &weep
Some days I want to encase my heart in a metal #ferrule
To keep my dripping wound from killing me
To stop feeling
Then he laughs
A child grins
And I need to feel that
The word is full of false smiles and empty hearts, eager for you to be their next hustle. They’re willing to take your love, money, or dignity. Hell, all three.
Don’t let them dirty your view of the world. There are still pockets of beauty and kindness.
Her name is Polly
Society dressed her in vibrant pinks
And told her how to live
Tried to clip her dreams
Told her to speak softly,
Like light rain and live only to entertain
But she isn’t a pretty parrot
And she wants out of her cage
Today was the day, she’s escaping this dying town with its decaying despair. She raced down the cracked porch steps and into her rusted car. Revving the old engine, she peeled out of the long gravel driveway, kicking up gravel and long-forgotten dreams.
Today was the day, she’s escaping this dying town with its decaying despair. She raced down the cracked porch steps and into her rusted car. Revving the old engine, she peeled out of the long gravel driveway, kicking up gravel and long-forgotten dreams.
She’s Living Art Reckless brushstrokes of joy and terror
Irrational curves of light and dark
Carved from her bits of paradise and pandemonium
She’s a chaotic masterpiece