She feels colours,
Sees love,
Smells achievement,
And hears a smile.
Finds bits and pieces of her in unexpected places,
Dances to the beat of her own drum,
Worships rose petals, red lipstick,
And maybe you.
She’s a brave caterpillar,
Alone in the cocoon,
Morphing into the beautiful butterfly.
Ahead of her time,
Yet right on time.
She’s strength and sweetness.
She’s a warrior,
Her bones are inked in resilience.
She’s a demigod,
Her small existence is astounding.
She’s a paradox,
Her weakness is her strength.
She’s majesty,
Her soul is royalty.
She doesn’t soar the skies,
Yet her wings are by no means,
Less than the eagle’s…
She plods, she ponders,
Some days,
She simply persists.
In silence she battles,
And in despair she remembers, love.
She gathers all that is left of yesterday,
Her glitchy mind, her patchwork heart,
Her sharp edges, her missing parts,
Everything.
She soothes her frayed heart,
Hoodwinks her demons,
Clothes her agony in grace,
Hones her brave spirit,
Feigns fresh hope,
And walks quietly into a new day.
Her emptiness still lingers,
Her pains still ache,
Her veins are weary,
Her smile is riddled with scars,
Yet she’s lit like a fire tall enough to lick the gates of heaven!
What a strong woman!
A woman made of staggering rebound!
A true reflection of a God!
The ultimate God soaked metaphor!
She’s oenomel,
She’s strength and sweetness,
She’s wine and honey,
She’s blizzard and furnace,
She’s fire and water.
She exemplifies the sound of space,
The hope of time,
The power of pain,
The greatness of nothingness,
The change of the unstoppable,
The uncertainty of impossibility,
The essence of the downtrodden,
The beauty of the strange,
The beginning of the end.
She’s oenomel.
CheChe's Journal 