I had the craziest dream. Sweet Gardenia blossoms grew immense enveloping firestorms and chaos, masquerading all traces of ash and burn. The intoxicating scent of sweet perfume permeated the clean air, creating nursery rows of safety bubble greenhouses. A young girl’s innocence remained pure and virtuous. Flowering freedom rained dewdrops of kindness. There were no guns, no mass graves, no starvation, no rape, no death. No dead children. No hate.
Sometimes I think I should just quit. The world is too ugly, too sad, too dangerous. You know like most creatives, empaths, humans we question ourselves, we overthink incessantly, coming up with a gazillion reasons why. Why not stop. And, why not? You know what, fuck it. I’m not finished, your story is not finished. Our story. We’re in this chaos of crazy together. Stuck together. What is this one
Daughters Who Shape Us May we be your best example of speaking the ugly truth May you never be soiled or spoiled or talked into anything you don’t want to do May you remain untainted and uninhibited in all your glorious nakedness Never know shame by the hands or wants or manipulation of another fucker Man, oh man May you never hear great tits and ass when you walk down
Please do not underestimate the fragile girl who has been broken. The grown woman inside has climbed the barbed wire, jagged and cut, bleeding deeply shrugging off the scars. She is woke and not immune to the swirling, selfish world around her. Simply living the beautiful and worst kind of misery humanity throws at her. The best soft shoe tap she can muster. The soul dances firelight loud and quiet,
If I Was Your Child Would you cover me in a coat of armor So my blood didn’t weep If I was your child Would you shield me from the dark The boogeyman man that wiggled my doorknob whilst I sleep If I was your child would you smother me with sweet scented well-meaning kisses If I was your child would you teach me all the adventurous things I needed
SHE. “I exist, therefore I am, beautifully flawed strength, smiles and bravado. I don’t want to be considered just a girl. I want to be remembered as a kind, master student of life and art. An honest girl, warrior woman, and fellow sister traveler, leading with rainbow hues of courage shooting stars straight from the heart.” – Jacqueline Cioffa
Rain. “You and I are only human, overwrought with emotion. We will be forever duking it out with the sassy sun and silly moon to stop running with scissors, for just one breath. There is beautiful stillness under a gray, cover-clouded downpour where the rain washes away the old footprints leaving room for a blank slate and tomorrow’s sunshine.” – Jacqueline Cioffa
Image Jacqueline Cioffa © Chris Fanning Photography This Face If I only show you the photoshopped, concealed, makeup pretty me You’d never understand the underbelly The crunchy grit, rawness hidden beneath The really good stuff, the honest kind that matters This face is not the who, how, or where This face is not the who, how, where, or when This face is not the who, how, where, when or why