her fingers caress keyboards and salty paper instead

perhaps,
she couldn’t speak as calm as the river,
flowing out soft ideas with her peaceful voice

perhaps, she wasn’t made to look like them

their skirts perfectly touching their ankles or
flowing dresses that reminded her of hot air balloons

her hair long and tangled,
she finds herself untwisting the knot she created, when the stars say goodbye every night
perhaps, she wasn’t made of sugar

she wasn’t made to be quiet and sweet
or wear vibrant colors, with church t-shirts

perhaps, she wasn’t made of rainbows and sparkles,
her favorite color wasn’t bright.
she never tried so hard to be different, she just was - in her own essence.
unintentionally,
storming on the other girls who can’t stand her rain

she hides herself in her jeans and oversized hoodies
perhaps, she draws her hands into her pockets
and her eyes shift to the floor

because she wasn’t made of sugar
whatever she said would surely leave a sour taste on her lips

because
her lips weren’t soft
they were salty
sometimes sour
a mix of flavors that didn’t quite belong together

in the garden of girls
flowers and leaves don’t leave her lips,
instead they become weeds
the part of the garden nobody wants
the part they try to rip out,
the party that never grows the way they want it to
yet, she finds herself content in it

because,
she wasn’t made of flowers

she wasn’t meant to be tasted,
like they were
she was meant to be
remembered

salty cheeks, sour lips, sacred tongue

that didn’t matter

she’s finally
content

because she was only made

to be
loved
by
Y o u