look mama no hands



I’m learning to celebrate

Learning to take a compliment without turning my head and pretending not to hear

learning to admire confidence in menfolk without wanting to kick them in the shins

learning to hear “You’re beautiful” and believe it

learning that love isn’t weakness

and life isn’t bleakness

And sometimes freedom is a gilded cage

And birds might be wishing for the comforte of this age

Learning that a poem doesn’t have to rhyme

Learning that “I don’t know” isn’t a sign of ignorance

learning to embrace new friendships

not foresee the moment they crumble into dust

Learning to Spoon, to lie in bed that extra moment

learning that taking control is actually letting go.

That. Taking. Control. Is. Actually. Letting. Go

Look Mama, No Hands!!!

Am I even making sense?

This poem says that i shouldn’t care…so I won’t



photoCred: adventure-journal.com


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