She’s been told who she should be since before memory will allow her to recall. These life instructions have come from a plethora of directions, but underlying the white noise remained one message. She is to be “perfect.”
Doing what she does best, or taught best to do, she obliged. That, of course, is the cardinal rule. She must always say yes. Opinions were not to be expressed. She did not want to seem confrontational, so she remained silent. And if there was even the slightest chance that she could be perceived as obtrusive, she should always say sorry. She could never overuse sorry.
Further more, she was not to do anything that could convey she is “crazy”. This label is a life sentence for women and can cease all chances for matrimony and procreation, which she was told are her ultimate goals. To achieve this, she made sure to repress any chance of demonstrating “clinginess”, showing emotional reactivity, or expressing oneself. Again, silence was her virtue.
Her worth? Well, appearance and weight determined that.
She was the product of a culturally transmitted disease and she withered into the outdated constructs laid before her. She became as small as necessary to fit the mold. It was not until she almost vanished into the darkness of complacency that she realized she did not belong in a world that the majority live in, a world of black and white. She was meant to live life in full color.
She became her own person. Disregarding societal pressures, she became a servant to her inner-wild. What she discovered was everything they forgot to tell her.
She is a listener’s rainbow with words of iridescent color.
She has kaleidoscope of hypnotic inner fractals and infinite dimensions.
Her thoughts are like the morning dew that catches dawn’s light.
She is a technicolor crystal shower of profound hues scattered across auditory landscapes.
She is the time 11:11.
A minute’s duration that eternity longs for.
Her psyche is a visionary’s shrine much like that of an aged dandelion.
Dreamer’s pay homage to her mature webs in hopes they will be blown into reality.
She is the fervent flame in a world of idleness.
Throughout her vessel a burning fire of aliveness pulsates.
Her passion ignites all whom cross her path ablaze.
Melting never felt so good.
She is the resilient leaflet among a bare tree during harvest season.
Those existing at the surface could not withstand, but her roots remained.
The sun delighted among her vascular imprints that dared to be.
She’s nature’s mosaic secret.
She is the fertile source cultivating minds abloom.
A free spirit who defies cerebral boundaries as her loyalty reigns with the wind. Seeking purpose is her path and obtaining oneness her destination.
A blossomed life-force, she is a garden of enlightenment.
She is the galactic star-dust flickering hope in the night sky.
An earthly supernova, as her inner cosmos radiate stellar evolution.
Terrestrial satellites lust to explore her celestial spaces.
She is a cosmic ruler of hearts.
She is the wild breeze that acquires communion with all terrains of life.
A rush of wanderlust that dances along endless horizons.
Her cool air provides relief among the furnace of existence.
She is in every breath taken.
She is a work of art that appeases to all senses.
People serve as museums and long to give hospitality to her composition.
Her beauty defies the material platform and is felt on a spiritual level.
She provides pigment to the bare canvas of reality.
She is the ocean’s choir crashing waves of solace among turbulent shores.
A song that never tires, a melody without an end.
Her nature correlates to the unruliness of the breaking surf but within the depths of her abyss her waters run still.
A balanced conscious-system, she disregards shallow living.
She is the beaming ray of sunlight among the breaking in the clouds.
A stairway to heaven, she is a child of the light. T
he stars envy over the luminosity of her shine.
She is nothing like the rest.
She is a hurricane in a category all her own.
With an awakened middle eye she sees truth.
Those living on the surface of the depths will become casualties of her mental destruction.
She will leave you chasing her storms.
She is the creator’s love letter bringing vitality to the most important organ. Surrendering to the divine instruction, she follows the compass of her heart along each poetic expression of herself.
Her essence is of a language that causes revolutions in souls.
A conscious superior, she is liberation from the physical.