Honey Dew can be sweet at times. Believing in yourself is sweeter. My mind explodes with frustration and my lack of control over myself. The chains were completely expired to the point that I had none. No chains. No label. No category. Was I free? Or was I a slave to self-expression? Was I new? Or am I a tired washed cloth.

No.


I am nothing, but a petal of words thrown into the sunset. Nothing, but a sea of treasure that has been abandoned. Everything more than the piece of shits that crawl around, who live on excuses.

I am a lioness. I roar.

I speak.


I am.