Lady with a wagon
Doting on oneself
Her dazzling fabrics dancing through the faris wheel of her reclaimed birthrights
Essence mixtures and blessings over what covers her
Honor and gratitude toward the ritual wheel of fortune
The wheels of justice turns for her
So she cannot fathom a busy life
Little tings make up her days
Sun light floods everything she does
Floating on thunder thighs to and from her nest
Pleasures dipped in nostalgia is her only meal
Wagon lady
Catch her strolling neighborly streets
Belly full and dirty raw feet
Pink
Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave
January 15, 2023
I love deep feelings. Feelings that stops you in your tracks. Experiencing feelings with self awareness is even more enticing. I can do this dance and really put my foot in it. Really break a sweat. With the wisdoms of the future as a tether. Although the idea of becoming the crazy lady who wears mumus, cheetah print thongs, reads tea and palms and can tell when you’re lying but makes a game of playing along, is mad enticing.
Woman with the heart shaped birthmarks🖤


I don’t know where I’m from,but I’m dancin atop the lakes of MN. If my maternal cracks.
God bless us all.
Holder of safe spaces. I will not buy into the illusion. I’m not in love; I’m disgusted.
Woman from Venus. My North Star. She’s too sensitive for y’all mothfuckers.
Crust

Love language

Knotted women
Knotted women
With whipped legs, full
Siren Buddha orphan
Four fingers and red mats
Brown squares under their eyes
Lives down the street some tag and sway
Knotted women prefers it this way
King bed in clams
Pearls replacing pupils
Pills and a nice white
Did a promise keep them
A fellow hand wrapped in silk and wool
The sun cleanses knotted women
Bathing child
Swimming in muscle memory
A letter is nothing
A minute a mile away
Knotted women don’t keep time
Don’t use things how they’re suppose to
Right brained
Hair pulled brick by brick
Dreaming to touch Jupiter if they make it
Shiva in the Himalayas
Knotted women are Satis’ sacrifice
A severed limb
Mermaids live with them
They call each other sisters
It soothes all the soil and turmoil
It inspires miracles
Knotted women
July 5, 2017
Yesterday I realized that hanging out with X’s family may not be the best idea. I’m numb around them often finding myself hurt I don’t have what X has. His daughter is what gets me. It reminds me of what I used to have with my father. Heart wrenching. How lucky is he to have all that. My father, I’ve been thinking about him non-stop since New York and watching X with his daughter brings up so much as watching any daughter being loved on by her father. I want a child. To feel important, relevant. To fix this. Typical right. I find myself unable to enjoy the presence of others. Wanting to spend all my days in my van like I used to.
X brings everything to surface. He can’t be pushed or deterred. He’s given me a love I’ve never experienced. I don’t think anyone understands what Im saying and how I think like he does. He can be very detrimental to my well being. He can bring me to the highest of highs, but also if I let him in and it doesn’t work out, he could be the death of me. A painfully beautiful death probably. I never would imagine. Love is hard to trust. I pray he’s not another….
I pray I get out beforehand if he does. I pray for strength an open heart. I pray for healing.

