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A person may leave or stay, To know the reason, if I may. A person can always get hurt, Only if they didn’t make the cut.
That girl you see that girl over there the girl with the naive face the one who trust everyword you say
you began to undress me and as each button of my blouse becomes undone a sliver of some imperfection slips past my possessions that once possessed me settle in a pool around my ankles
A silent warrior who takes things blow by blow one hit after another never striking back and is left to clean up the mess.
A thousand yellow pairs of eyes Peer into mine With every year of life that passes The s chained to my wrists t r
Momma taught me to tie my shoes When I was four years old. When I was five, I taught myself to untie my shoes. My feet weren’t made for shoes, I would tell momma. And she would tell me
the mirror was an illusion, the silence was the truth. so many illusions fill the air, hang down on our shoulders, shine in our eyes. too much you do not see. i want to tell you the truth:
Yield not sincere vulnerability Like the thorns on a rose doth separate Underneath lies thine past adversity Still the petals will fall for ‘tis their fate And expose the beautiful irony,
A Women of All Odds Please pay no attention to the women behind those books Intelligence is over-rated; twerking is all the new rage
Judgemental, brutal, fierce. Words into your feelings pierce. Laughter, anger, hurt. People make you believe your dirt. You overcome, try hard to fit in. Being yourself isn't a sin.
My heart sank like a rock thrown into a pond. Chills went all over my body, as if I jumped into the cold ocean. It went quite, like everything froze around me. I lost thought for words, as if my mind just left.
POOF! Now I am confident! SNAP! Now I am beautiful! BOOM! Now I am talented! Here I stand, So hear my demands! My confidence has surly convinced you!
I am quiet I am small The storm in me wages a riot I am a wanderer I am a believer Constantly a wonderer I am eighteen I am young Yet caught somewhere in between
Do we even know anyone anymore Even those closest to us Or are we just seeing the masks they wear We know we hold secrets ourselves So why would we believe that somebody else doesn't
My soul and my whole existence hurts I keep on doubting who I am Am i who others want me to be Or the person that i see myself being and is My heart and mind are both fearful
I am the moon. My face constantly changes. Always a mixture of light and dark, in different proportions. Although, I have a complete dark side, Absent of all light, That only a rare few ever get to see.