Pieces to a puzzle
You can call me jigsaw
Find the edges, fuck a frame
Defying Newton’s law
Lots of places, tight spaces
Working hard to find the fit
Make it hard to submit
People saying I should settle
& give up the dream
Not counting on my mental
Girl doing big things
Talk all you want, cause I ain’t fronting
Been around long enough
Lioness been hunting
Killin’ it since ’89
Yeah boy, you know me
I may fail, I might fall
But I got that degree
& I would rather be starving
To know I have that hunger
Out on the prowl
Mark of a true hunter
I feel like a storm; rolling through the hills with thunderous booms & clashes of light.
I feel like a seesaw; the ups & downs, the weight moving me just an inch off the ground.
I feel like a banana; with a hint of green, ripe for eating but lacking flavor.
I feel like a question; that has no answer just rhetorical irony.
I feel like a candle; that can fill a room & burn for hours until my fire has no more wick.
I feel like a plant; needing trimmed so I can have the chance to regrow.
I feel like a little girl; with big dreams and a blank canvas to paint them on.
It’s weird…making decisions. Deciding who you want to be. To make that a conscious process instead of autopilot. Because frankly, auto pilot is no good.
Mistakes define us; they serve as pivotal moments where our response is everything–it’s a lesson, a truth, a defining moment. Without mistakes we would never learn anything… But there is the risk of it becoming a visible maar, a characteristic more permanent than ever meant. In ways I don’t realize my mistakes haunt & mentally block energy that keep me stagnant.
I value the past, maybe more than I should. I’m a lover of nostalgia & while it can render a vulnerbleness; I am earnest in my belief that carrying it alongside a fervent truth of will–my future will be met with gumption & heart. I’m ready to level up, take chances and chase some dreams.
Let’s do this.