ᔕᑌᗰᗩᑎI

Annie Lennox

Grace Jones

Sinead O‘Connor

Dolores O‘Riordan

Patti Smith

Tracy Chapman

Joan Jett (photo credited to Brad Elterman)

Pauline Black (photo credited to Ebet Roberts)

Meshell Ndegeocello (photo credited to Raymond Boyd)

Tanita Tikaram (photo credited to Bernard Weil)

She deserves him,

A blanket for the night and day

She, with her beauty

And him, with his

Hand in hand

Yet his fingers touch nothing

He’s not interested

But who gives up, right?

I’m turning into

my mom.

The empty, heavy

gaze she has

each morning,

I feel myself

now wearing.

Recently,

I thought about

asking her

if she loved

herself.

I was scared

and yet certain

she would say

“No.”

Because she

never sings loudly,

and does only

little dances.

She acts as if

she is unforgivable,

her mistakes

are unrepairable.

And it’s not like

I don’t want to

be like my mom,

it’s more like

I wish she saw

herself like I do.

Like the most

hardworking person

in the world,

who’s learned

and dealt with

so much shit.

Like she deserves

better than

what she gets.

Than what I

give.

She is chaos and peace,

Within a minute, a predator and a prey.

Inside her, a battle everyday,

"What kind of vibe should I release?"

She can be an angel to one

Or a saint to none.

However there's no telling,

There are no signs nor words

On what she'll be unveiling.

But let her keep her cords.

Afterall, she is darkness and light.

And she is struggling a big fight.