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The fucking queen of the world


I am:

a burnt-out cliché

the cloud in your silver lining

the parade in your rain

and the dark coffee that darkens your cream.


I am:

your city of sorrow

the moss that clings to your stone

the injustice of love and war

and the unraveled stitch that will cost you every time.


I am:

the whale in your puddle

your rain after the rainbow

the bitter berry in your glass of fine wine

and the relativity in your truth.


I am:

the delicious inside chapters of the book you can't put down

the cornerstone of your castle

and the bitter happiness you feel when we reunite.


I am:

the fucking queen of the world!









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