Why give me this body that imprisons my soul?

I Rome this bruised space hiding from my own disgrace

That spills over in my world

That only knows me as a little girl

But I am a woman!

And I know because i have the scares to prove it

I have titts and ass like an hour glass

And puberty has been years passed

But I am still a little girl


And my avatar wants to leave because I won’t let her breathe

Smothering her with my fears of

Today …


And most of all yesterday

But she stays to play anyway



Can’t stand her because

She is protected

By her avatar



    1. 6 parts the epigram i wrote was way to long part 2 is post dated for tomorrow,,,my avatar is the little girl in me who protects me from this cruel world,,,WE ALL HAVE ONE, AN AVATAR (:

  1. hej, thanks for the follow, i am glad to returne the favore.
    I really like your poetry, the direct and immediate way you tell stories…
    looking forward to more.
    wish you a nice day!

  2. Reblogged this on David Emeron: Reflections upon Reflections and commented:
    Thank you very much for visiting my very very tame and quiet little corner of cyberspace, when compared to yours. One thing confuses me in the above entry; however, it is just a quite mild curiosity. I’m not sure I see anything in your avatar that seems objectionable or that I might shy away from or wish you to remove. Apart from that, I believe I understand the tenor of above entry. Thanks again for the visit.

  3. Aahhh! Oh, how we master the crafted talent of creating our own persona for adaptation to life’s trials and tribulations. When we need to pursue that which we naturally wouldn’t, we create a persona that definitely can, because it is that persona that can handle those particular repercussions. That is a deep perspective on life, good one.

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