Poem

She is a grammatical mistake.

Poem

She is a grammatical mistake.

She is blue raspberry slushee tongue Meets feminist rant.

She is a colorful hijab, a black skirt,

glasses, always ready to snap.

 

She is sour skittles wrapper personified.She is purple lipstick stains on wine glassesFilled to the brim with cranberry juice. 

She is a writer and a muse?She is three cats, one bed.

 

She is a scratch on your favorite record during your favorite song.She is bubblegum bubble pop,She is the definition of hypochondriac.

 

Curiosity didn’t kill her,She killed curiosity.

 

She is on the other side of generosity.

 

She is no one's favorite poem.

She is everyone's favorite poem.She is her own favorite poem.

 

She is perpetual headache.She is screaming for justice.She is the storyline of pretty little liars,In other words, She is a hot mess.

 

She is nature walks cut short due to laziness.She is laziness.She is lay in bed all day,Drown in the sheets, have a book by your feet.She is too many books, not enough time.

 

She is funeral song at a wedding.She is dethorned rose, declawed cat.She is allergic to the word fat.

 

She is a renaissance painting come to life.She is never could quite get the words out.She is lip bite, blood drip.

She is covered in black but she is not that dark.

 

She is an oak tree,That's what her sister told her.

 

She is the heart inside an 18 year old's hand. She is conspiracy theory.She is playing possum.

 

She is change the subject.She is cry when being yelled at,Cry when no one is looking,Cry when everyone is looking,Cry because there's nothing else to do.

 

She is leather jacket in July.She is crop top and mini skirt.She is lullaby.She is dancing to the Law and Order theme song.She is 17,000 tweets.

 

She is see how long she can go without talking.She is goes so long without talkingthat now she can’t talk.

 

She is two older siblings to back you up in a fight.She is “call if you don't feel alright”.She is a  personality disorder,Or at least that's what she’s convinced she is.

She is you could've been smarter.

 

She is anxious laughter,Anxious smile.She is sewing her lips shut.

 

She is only 11 Instagram likes.She is learning to live with the lights on.She is sleep too much,Sleep too little.She is curl on cheekbone.She is protruding rib bone.She is hip bones cutting glass.

 

She is not seeing very clear.She is not telling her doctor her vision's blurry,what if the consequences are something to fear?

She is choke on your own saliva.She is burnt tongue tip.She is feel like puking in the parking lot of the dentist's office.She is a 1997 themed mixtape.

 

She is chapped lips.

She is brick through the window.She is suffocating on society ideals.

 

She is three am,Get out of bed.She is rain in September.

 

She is poetry.She is poet.She is music in fingertips,Songs molded from similes.She is metaphor flavored kissesAnd a witchcraft tongue dancing vividly.

 

She is a girl crafted of stories.A collection of make believe.She is breathing passion.She is daughter of loving,Lover of everything.She is afraid of scorpions.She is the venom.

 

She is a violin heart screeching out its first note.

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