maelyn

I want to hold 

Both a pen and a sword, 

To find struggle within my words, 

To make pain drip from the ink, 

Trickling onto my palms, 

Beauty isn't perfection

It isn't when you look like a model

For a fancy brand;

It is rooted in your heart,

Golden sprouts peaking from the glands,

Little silver blossoms opening,

Proudly standing tall,

I have a dream

Of holding a book in my hands,

Running my fingers over the pages,

Crisp and fresh,

The white only lasting an inch

Or two,

Short hair,

A t-shirt and shorts,

Shouldn’t change me from feminine

To “buddy,”

And being a girl

Shouldn’t erase the sports I’m good at,

There are words

Begging to be typed,

Words

That want to pour from my soul,

Words

Who’s only mission

Is to be read,

No one needs to hear your jokes, 

Your remarks or your sneers,

No one needs to be pushed under

By the sea that you've filled

With the laughs that you've drawn

From ignorant thoughts,