Like a cyclone
Words open up my world.
Allowing me to give insight, to my inner plight.
Presumably guilty of passion. Lust isn’t my fashion.
Nor is Love.
A hardened heart. Calloused and scarred.
Complicated and hard.
Barriers built to protect from a love not had,
Self-love a gift.
Hell, I wouldn’t know, the shoe didn’t fit.
Daddy’s girl, I never was.
Temperament and face like his.
No-nonsense, strictly biz.
before starting, give up and quit.
Emotional baggage dragging me around.
Hands tied and bound.
No peep, no sound.
That is until I found my crown,
placed sideways upon my head.
To be seen and not heard,
a great tragedy for some.
My story is sure to help one.
Days of poisoning myself are past,
learning of a love that lasts.
My confidence once shattered
from one that no longer matter.
Imprisoned no more,
myself I adore.