ur sleeping on the couch

punch a nazi in the face

she walks the streets with her soul captured within her own heart and so the gods fall from their thrones the clouds dip and drip sweet apricot juice staining the lace sky. she is never lost because she has made a home in her own bones, the pathways she strolls made of concrete and brick make no impact on her. her eyes glisten like flickering fires like raging oceans like flashing neon lights she sees the world in shades of pink and blue and purple and red, she is growing a garden with her words. there are sunflowers sprouting from her eyelids, a tangle of lilacs between her teeth. when she retreats to the warmth of her mind, she is greeted by bundles of roses growing from her skull, chrysanthemums scattered behind her lungs. she wears her garden like a crown. her skin is where the sun sleeps, all coffee and chocolate and brown sugar. she is vicious and ever loving. the goddesses with their silk hair and coconut skin and bland kisses burn with jealousy, wondering how a mortal wearing nothing but her self-love is more beautiful than them.
her thighs are painted with marks like lightening, her body rolled against her skeleton. she know she is crafted from the angel and demon's dreams and desires, she knows she holds mouthwatering power in each inch of her being. her hands are tired of holding up her sign, painted with the colors of her family's blood, letters scrawled out please stop killing us, her feet are sore from walking across mountains and nations and cities, her throat is raw from screaming the same thing over and over again. we are human we are human we are human. her voice shakes with fear with anger with sadness her heart is breaking. she needs herself more than ever, she has one home and one home alone because you have taken everything from her. she confides within herself she has learnt there is nobody who will cherish every atom in her body like she will. if you do not love her she will, if you do not love her color her soul her people, she will. she fears no bullet no storm no man, she has looked death in the eye and growled. she is a glowing beacon of revolution. the earth wishes to rotate backwards the moon tries to turn its tides just to please her. she is change.