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  • Writer's pictureQuinn

I'm tired of being a Good Girl

There's a part of me that I've hidden; she was born out the need to release the savage bits within me.

She misses the moonlight & craves to be seen.

A hurricane for safe spaces, she hungers for risk & danger.

Give her spice on her tongue & burn in her liquor;

give her pools under the moon & steal her clothes away under the sun.

A stage & a song or a heart & a bed-- she will always steal the show.

It's crazy how you can't keep the elements contained.

Stella, she is solar and celestial; a force of nature.

A freak of nature.

Where did she go? Where have I gone?

Say the right thing, cover up that skin, not too much color, not too little smiling.

Watch your mouth, cross our legs, apologize.

Crazy, destructive, obnoxious Bitch.

And, what. a. slut.

Swear words, crop tops, pink and a scream.

I said what I said, I do what I want; unapologetic.

Liberated, creatrix, loyal to a fault.

And, look. at that. body. [magic]

I'm of being a Good Girl; it's never felt authentic.

Let me be wild

let me dance in the streets

let me scream into the woods.

Let's get into my car, and drive to the coast--today.

Grab the drugs & champagne, the Polaroid & film.

You're never going to want these memories to fade...


photocred: "Seen" by AnnCT|via tumblr

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