As long as I was a child I wanted to write, write my ass off, write my destiny write my thoughts, since childbirth I wanted something special for myself, maybe a bike or maybe someone I could trust, I don’t know, our destinies are written by the people we love as long as we love them, people mistake kindness for weakness so often they misspell belief, I write because I am a poet and I can’t write a book yet.
If I could write a book I would do it but I don’t know how to do that.
Someone told me I should write a book and that is not far from the truth.
Lying to me is like a relief, it soothes the pain but kills the memory.
Writing for me as been my number one asset, and all other assets I have are just secondary, people mistake my kindness for weakness because they think I’m too soft, I’m not, I’m a badass chick with good intentions.
I see you know weakling