"Where the creativity lives, is where I reside."
They'd said that Snow White was saved by true love's kiss. This true love the fairytales are all about? It doesn't exist.
By Abigail Asante5 years ago in Poets
Skin too bumpy, filled with acne, scars, and open pores.. breasts too plump, cheeks too chubby to ignore, A tummy quite small, yet never small enough,
Swift breeze, gentle touches, fresh air. With one as sweet as candy, everything else I deal with, and as for all my other problems? I don’t care.
The door jingles as you walk in, and that signals my heart to skip a beat, the hair on the back of my neck to rise, and my whole body to tense.
The solar system that is one's being , can be seen as nothing but the empty wake of their hidden cries. "Constellations on your cheeks..stardust in your veins..the galaxy in your eyes.."
Fingers tapping, back and forth pacing, Nervous trembling, heart racing. Rehearsing lines, refusing help, “Get up off your seat, and go do it yourself.”
That day I walked in, knowing this should have never been. Knowing I should have never felt the way that I did that day.
We were born and raised with beautiful hearts, We are bruised, battered and torn apart.. We are children..right from the start,
They once said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. There's nothing that can quite compare to what mine hold. Silliness, amusement, mischief, and good laughs. What a wonderful masquerade!
