My eyes are not made of glass
Blood runs through my veins I feel most comfortable in jeans I've never liked the look of pigtails on me Too much make-up makes me grimace My thoughts run rampant They keep me up at night My body is not porcelain Though it has felt delicate and broken My hands sometimes ting with pain From hard work I've spent my life on I have free will and a desire to use it My soul seeks more than a white picket fence My feet get vibrations They demand to move often My lips are not glossy or bright But rather a real nude pink that have words to articulate I cannot be obtained, I am not for keeping I am no one's doll - Searching For An Equal
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AuthorHeidi Hendrix Categories
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August 2018
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