Plus whatever you do with this information.
Tip.
Crying by the window,
such a star.
Living the American dream all alone;
This is not a pity show.
Persephone;
What is this all about?
Melodramatic,
my heart was broken at least a decade ago,
maybe two.
Home.
Nothing that is meant needed me to force it.
Tears rolled down, and I tried to hold them.
Always too much,
and too big,
and too intense.
Magic was right at a corner,
where I stood but did not expect.
It took me to my heartache,
and reminded me that I am breathing.
I’m a fan of those I love;
sometimes it feels like all I got is haters though.
The pen does not manifest martyrdom,
resourceful;
I am so close to the things generations dream about.
This meal was just for me,
and the table set for four was served for me.
And still,
I am alive.
I can decide when to stay,
when to go.
¿Is Luna getting full yet?
I am sacred, do not take it for granted.
¿Why take me for granted?
¿Why take me?
¿Why take?
One of these nights it will all click into sense.
Sensible to the love I give.
A child of the world,
running wild,
free woman.
Thank you for letting me cry in your restaurant,
home is a place to be found.
The waters wash me and move me;
She rinsed my third eye.
My roots are deep, and yet they float.
The fire in my belly,
the creation of my womb,
it is giving me this bed I lay on.
The empty rooms,
do not mind them.
There is nothing for me to do,
it unfolds,
without my doing;
even if by my own hands.
Today started slow and then it was a gift;
It also weighted on me and now it eases me.
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