I’m a fucked up mess. And that’s ok.

I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m angry, I want to leave I long to stay.

I’m girly, I swish I swoon I sway

I’m aggressive, sexual, I long to play.

I’m full of the knowledge of the Earth yet I know nothing

I want to cry from pain and feel the joy to sing.

I’m a roller coaster, a carousel, a water slide

I long to be seen as I am yet want to hide.

I’m confused I overthink I am so lost

I’m scared I over feel and cover this at all costs.

I am the women before me and the men to come

Adored by those that truly love me feared and hated by some.

I am so small desperate to leave a legacy yet here for Just a minute

I’m the universe incarnate in such a small space and as such infinite.

I am the collective and yet the individual

Full of fire burning within my ritual.

I’m struggling in this body I’m learning I stumble I fall

I am life perfect in my imperfections beneath it all.

I act like it doesn’t matter whether you truly know me

Yet try to be something I’m not to avoid being lonely.

I push away my energy giving it stories of who I used to be

Yet, in turn, I neglect and hurt the true inner me.

I change with the weather where the moon lies affect my being

To know where I am, have been, could go the blessing and curse of my seeing.

Each day so totally different I can no longer hold down my way

For I’m a fucked up emotional mess

and do you know what, that’s ok.

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Are you painting your own “master” piece?

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