Ceramic Ponies

Sometimes she used to drown her blood to daddy’s favorite drink. Fought, loved, and lost Only to feel nostalgic with every burning swallow. She had sought intoxication for answers to open ended questions, And was forbidden fruit deemed to fail as a result of her parents actions. She grew to be molded, by the positive vibes of life. Like the ceramic ponies of art class Finding intuition to venture beyond the average. She learned to never fall to the hands of crippling sadness She no longer grasped the neck of bottles Or swallowed vodka happiness, Though some sin, lies beneath her inexperienced grin. This strong woman finds her answers through graceful walks along sandy beaches Allowing the salty air to tinge her hair She’s free from the urban chaos She found love beyond a man’s “need” to touch her godly hips, allowing the cross upon her neck to drag her down to reality. She forced herself to make a wonderland where the waves kissed the shore. No longer did cloud nine shield her from the inevitable tasks of life. She didn’t let humiliation shave down her to eventual nothingness Instead she let herself rise beyond her mother and father. She molded the future into tiny sandcastles, Drawing “I am she” as if trying to leave a reminder, Life is worth more than ceramic ponies and shattered childhoods.