soul full of love, laughter, and passion. newyork living, wildthing, in love with life, music, and ladies. 5'3", brown eyes, smile like the sun rise. whatever you do, make sure that it is founded in love, and it makes you happy.twitter: jesimjess instagram: wildthinggg
Sometimes, I forget that I am young. I forget that I have only been blessed with a quarter of a century. I forget that mistakes are part of trying.I forget that fear is motivation, not food for anxiety.I forget that friendship takes kindness, and openness. I need to forget those who have made me less kind and less open.I forget the way a first kiss feels. I forget to smile sometimes. I forget what it’s like to be wooed, except by myself.I forget that it’s better to woo yourself than to expect others to do it for you.I forget how to give a genuine hug to someone other than my mother and my father. Because I’m fearful others won’t return it. I forget the sound of my first boyfriend’s voice. I forget to eat well.I forget to make eye contact, retail has killed a friendlier version of myself.I forget not to stand tall and act like I don’t care, because of how I was approached when I cared. I forget that kindness and courage can go hand in hand.I forget who I was when I was 19. I forget what it looks like when someone wants to be your friend.I forget because I remember that no one can change my life, only I can. I remember these wonderful women who have looked me in the eye, and told me good, and kind words. Strong words.I forget that each day is a blessing. That each day is what I make it. That each day belongs to me and me alone. I forget. I’m going to forget forgetting and start remembering.
Suffering is not bad. If you understand it rightly, suffering is a cleansing. If you understand it rightly, sadness has a depth to it which no happiness can ever have. A person who is simply happy is always superficial. A person who has not known sorrow and has not known sadness, has not known the depths. He has not touched the bottom of his being; he has remained just on the periphery. One has to move within these two banks. Within these two banks flows the river.
Let’s be honest here -
I am not the girl men fall in love with.
I am the girl that men want to fuck.
I am a conquest. A prize. A show.
I could count on five hundred fingers
the number of people that have professed,
“I like you. You’re different. You’re an interesting girl.”
Apparently I’m not fascinating enough for you
to want to hold for more than a one night stand.
as I finished swimming a sea of blankets
and got left stranded on the shore,
I asked myself:
What’s wrong with me?
What am I doing?
Am I not good enough for anybody?
And right before I could drown again,
the sun woke up and said,
You are enough.
Forget the men whose hands have groped your hips
in search for answers to questions
you’ve never even heard of.
Do not settle for people who do not appreciate you,
who do not know how lucky they are.
Remember it is a privilege to be loved by you,
or even just
to be touched by you, and
the warmth of another body does not define your worth.
These men -
they think that they can own you
with their drunken stares and roughened arms, but
I have circled the earth
a thousand times
to feed the light flowing inside your skin.
Do not waste it by illuminating those who
can not even be bothered
to learn your last name.”
So that night when
the moon tried once more to pin me down,
I told him:
I am made of sunlight, crashing waves, and fireworks.
You think you can tame me
and cool my flesh?
I am the girl who plays with matches,
and trust me I play it well.
Lord knows I’ve walked through villages leaving
a pile of destruction in my wake.
My heart is a bushfire
and the next time you try to control me,
darling, make no mistake -
I will burst out and ravage you in flames.