I want to be seen.
Something more than my hair or what's in my jeans.
I am not a pretty face.
Not fit for glamour or for grace.
Do not tell me to smile in public.
You know better than to tell me that I am unbalancing society's need for woman to show off their pearly whites.
I am more than these expectations of a beautiful girl.
I see myself as a strong Viking Warrior
Fit for battle once a week every month.
I am the waves of the soft touched seas.
Gentle and calm yet rapid and dangerous as I crash to the sands of reality.
I have fire in my lungs and poison in my veins.
I am the paint splattered stars on the skies canvas.
I breathe star dust and hope to shine not for anyone but myself.
I cough up flowers and ideas back to the earth proving my existence.
My heart is made like a jawbreaker.
It'll take more than candies and flowers to chisel out the poison of my blood.
I am an earthquake upon your life that never seizes to stop shaking your feelings as you balance on the crumbles left.
My mind is a library in which words fall from the attic and pour out of the front door of my mouth.
My words taste sweet like drops of sugar and yet the bitterness stays, after taste sucked to the back of my throat.
I am more than your baby, your pretty face that is meant to laugh at your every dripping statement.
I just want to be seen.
Not for hair or what's in my jeans.
I am a force to be reckon with and will be seen.