Not Just a Girl

She is the kind of girl the wind Whispers secrets to,
The kind the ocean envies for her depth,
The kind the stars tilt towards, curious, captivated,
Unsure if she is one of them.

She walks like wildfire, untamed and unbothered,
Her presence, a golden ember,
against the cold hush of the world.
Her skin glows like the gentle shine of morning sunrises,
But her spirit… oh, her spirit is the storm before dawn,
A force that did not ask permission to exist.

She loves as fiercely, as she loses.
Her heart, sewn with old heartbreaks,
Beats defiantly, daring love to try again.
She has known love like a gentle river,
And she has known it like a raging sea, 
Both beautiful, both cruel in their own way.


Beneath her laughter,
Like the sound of silver bells in the wind,
Lay a blade sharpened by experience,
She cuts through pretenses with a single look,
Stripping the world down to its truth with words dipped in fire and ice.

She is steel and silk, Thorns and Rose petals,
Moonlight and shadow entwined.
She embodies the discipline of the earth,
Grounded yet restless, Soft enough to nurture,
strong enough to break stone.

She works with a devotion that does not waver,
Demanding excellence, never taking no for an answer,
Because to her, the impossible was just another challenge.

Oh, how gorgeous she is.
Not just in the way eyes widened when they saw her
But Her brazen and unyielding demeanor, unwavering,
An alluring aura, a blinding charm.
A storm that has learned to keep itself together.

Some labeled her sassy, others called her smart and witchy.
But none could deny the magic in her presence,
The spell in her words,
She is ink spilled on fate’s hands,
A poem the universe could never quite finish,
forever rewriting herself,
forever unfolding.

She is MoonWrites