You'll know a wild woman when you meet one, heck you'll feel her essence before knowing her name. They have this eccentric energy about them, one that passes by to touch the core - to awaken your own spirit to seek a little deeper, a little more.

She's the type of magic, you were taught not to believe in. There isn't a reference for wild women like her, fierce and fragile, all in or completely out. There's never in between.

Many will benefit from your lack of boundaries and call you selfish when you finally set a few. That’s when you know self love is working, it’s tests the egos of those who were using you.

They'll look for you in a field of roses, having never really known you at all. For you'll never be found in a perfectly tendered garden, you're an untameable wildflower in this wild world.

I am the woman you didn’t prepare for, the one you can’t quite grasp yet can’t forget.

I am neither the magician, nor the show. I'm the in between - everyone is captivated, but no one comes too close.

The light bearers know deep pains, Their gift is transcending a loss to a gain.

I had a way with whisky and words, It was my weapon to understand my weary and tired heart.

It’s a strange world like that, scared to speak from the heart - incase the world sees our scars.