Brown eyes in my sockets turned golden in your sight;
As still as they sit into my forehead,
They’re quite noisy to your head.
So, you wouldn’t let my ears rest
From the whispers and drops that you own.
Telling my day all you ever own.
See, when I was born,
I was soft and tender.
I could read the hard hearts of everyone who came my way.
I had the ability to see into the desires of the old.
And the one most funny cry I had was…
A lotta men dreamt about me in their arms.
But, I was still a little baby woman.
So, even when I’ve really grown,
You sit in your aged mind
And wish you could caress the mildness of my youth.
You walk in your crooked future
And feel you’re running after my glittering beauty.
You smile with your years covered teeth
And hope you’re imagining the warmness of my skin.
But, that’s a lie.
Did you know…
I’m gold polished in fire
I can never blend with the stamina of a decaying wood?
I’ve aches pinned to the gaps in my teeth.
I’ve bones fixed beneath the curves on my sides.
I’ve stones resting inside the apples on my heart.
I’ve got oceans flowing inside the rooms of my castle.
I’m just not the prize for a weak saint.
Let me tell you to…
Allow my smiles to glow with the innocence in my heart.
Just let my blooms and my sides run in the freedom of my sense.
Permit my thoughts to think in the liberty of my will.
And of course,
My body should live in the life of my might.
Throw your wishes on my feet,
I’ll squeeze them all with my toes.
Send your presents to my bag,
I’ll bury them all in the sand.
Sing your stories to my sleep,
I’ll sentence them all in the dream.
You should know…
I’m only blossoming.
I wanna wash in the water of pleasure,
But, I should learn how to swim before I step in.
If I leap before I look,
I’ll be too lost to catch a sign.
Let me sing very loud,
And write very bold…
The little I am must be really tired.
She’s got a lotta hectic requests from that lust love.
She needs a humble rest into her soul for the truth about tomorrow
Because, she’s just blossoming.
©Tydale Bassey Abigail.