Warning: This is a powerful reminder to never mess with a hurricane’s daughter.
I’m not a girl built of insecurities and small dreams.
I’m made of ambition, fire, passion
and I have spent years of my life
trying to turn my anger into something less scary, into something soft
but I have come to realize that I am more hurricane than girl
and to be gentle is not me.
To sweep you off your feet
to leave (love) marks across your skin,
to reach into your chest and dig around in your heart—
I’m intimidating, in a way that stays with you, long after the wind has died down and I am gone.
In the way that you can rebuild the damage after a hurricane
but you can never fully come back from it
because remains of trauma will forever be stuck
to the back of your head, the insides of your cheeks,
to the edges of your shoes, the seams of your favorite sweater.
I’m not for everyone.
Sometimes my wild heart screams so loud that the people living three blocks away
wake up in the middle of the night and call the police.
It’s not in the nature of a girl like me to be quiet.
It’s in the nature of a girl like me to be heard. It’s in the nature of a girl like me to be seen.
Did you know?
This body of mine, these dreams of mine
could move mountains.
and destroy them too.
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