I do not fit the box we are given when we are growing up
it has been beaten from the inside far too much
the crumbling cardboard box doesn’t emulate the woman
that has evolved from my skin.

and there’s something in the way my hand rests on your arm
that makes you more aware of the white noise in your ears
and I have never been one to sit on the sidelines
heroes must rise to the top with their own two feet,

you shook yourself off, the dust settled around your boots
and you gave back that number you were holding
started your own answers
began your own line

       I can’t feel anything from the vibrations
                but I don’t need anything but the honor and the glory
            we bleed promise, we…

       soft serve soul
       tangy setting sun
                dipped in starlight chocolate
             waffle blanket
                        a beautiful addition to the world