Jes

Her eyes are downright outrageous,
Her heart resembles hearth,
Raging, roaring, reprising.
Putting together
An act of dark art.
She owes no soul any sorry.
She owns her edges
A soft time
And her meltdown,
A piece of peace.
With makeup,
She can perform witchcraft.
Her tone is not obliged
To any validation.
And her validations
Are her own to seek.
She flaunts her
Necklace of love marks
With the occasional beads of scars.
She loves,
She scars,
Charring your insecurities apart.
No! She is no one thing.
She is a million mirrors
Of the same heart.