At 12 she was skin deep, she hated the clouds and their white glazes in the sky with seemingly false hope
She cut her thighs, her arms and her worth
To tears, like Eve in 2007, she birthed lavender dreams and sexed out curiosities
Lesbianism became a satisfaction cuz with a man she felt no home and no father.
So……was she a prisoner?
Hating God felt powerful and she went down the rabbits hole with an angsty stomach
Only to learn that the soul had a far better price than dildos and glittery lips. And no one would be there at the end of the whole with shining armore.
Metaphysics. Art. Vision. Roamed around her as she circled in a downward spiral.
And there He stood, with paper and pen at the end with a purpose to hand me.
Eleven years later, I ask.
“What took You so long?”