Your own
One day
One day see the fruits of my labor
Miracle after miracle
How lightly I’ll float by
I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize
How slow my mind processes
I’ve been keeping my eyes to myself
Can’t see me
Refuse to see
One day I’ll be a shooting star and won’t be able to help but notice.
I won’t even be able to stop; catch a glance or nothing
The collisions will simply be an after thought as I’m smoking a winter spliff
In me
There’s a peasant in me
More tame
Domesticated
A puppeteer, my sweet labrinyth
From her I get my strength
Hard steps
Most prized possessions
My sorry little secrets
September 24, 2022
I get hate for being an alchemist.
I’m surrounded by hurt people. Confused people. Boundaries. Know my limits. Become a recluse.
My abundance is my backbone. It’s what real love tastes like. Unconditional love. Chamomile and honey.
Calm waters. Strength. I know how it looks getting there and what it feels like. I taste it often. It surrounds me. I’ve felt the touch.
Seeking similarities. Taking risks but not to strike blood, not blind and never fooled.
Tap in or keep your distance, cause once ancestors makes moves we burn bridges with haste to protect ours.
Freegrandmaa 