Arrived to the point where even the reflection doesn't talk back
Driven by bumpy imperfections and what the image lacks Shattering expectations from bathroom mirror to bathroom mirror Dolled up Dolls lined up with a pastel finish, almost laughing me inferior With rounded curves, they're strung out like the lights in a vanity Dripping with etiquette and southern charm, absent of profanity Meanwhile, my pale lips are wet with disdain and a sailor's rasp They line up to undo my securities, starting with my skirt's clasp That's not to say the ones refined, gentlemen sort don't exist Upon fate's highway, our paths have merged and lips kissed But there's an inexplicable barricade; any connection will foil A supernatural stunt of growth to water his pot, only soil Concise conclusion: brain tis scattered and blog alike The sequence of my endeavors are not cycled like a bike I post as I please and remember in waves; as they crash I send them into the web, spun by present and past Suspicion is aroused and timelines are questioned There's no room for dishonesty; feeling a mess and-- I'm not ready to relinquish some of the tales Yet fingers are pointed; it never fails. So interpret my words for what they are Same with my past prevailed in every scar. Follow the posts as they surface Eventually, we'll know our purpose.
2 Comments
Lauren
1/24/2019 03:20:41 pm
“They line up to undo my insecurities, starting with my skirt’s clasp.” Wow. Such a line. ❤️
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Stephanie Sap-fire
2/4/2019 05:05:26 am
hehe why thank you;)) you know me and plays on words
Reply
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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