The Inheritance Tax

Please do not underestimate the fragile girl who has been broken. The grown woman climbs barbed wire fences unapologetic, her jagged and cut limbs battle cries that honor the scars. Bleeding profusely shrugging off the pain, she is awake and determined. The girl is immune to the swirling, incessant noise hovering overhead. Simply choosing to embrace the beautiful and worst kinds of misery. Nah, man she’s better than wasted breath.

Faded Glory

There are a few things I know now by trial and error, when attention comes your way embrace it. Be brave enough to embrace and enjoy five minutes of some kind of fucked up fame, to be seen through the camera lens even while it steals a piece of your vulnerable heart and sacred soul. It’s okay to try on different versions, experimenting behind platinum blond and a fuck you,

Female Persuasion

Don’t worry if they don’t like you, worry when you despise yourself. In a world where you’re taught that pretty fits inside some prefabricated box, grab some scissors and create your own unique shape, one that your most comfortable in. Leave room for growth and femininity, as you navigate the highs and lows. Do not cower, quiver or apologize for being a strong woman with a voice, dream and vision.

All I Ever Wanted

All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Without the clothes, the bling, the boys, all the heavy stuff. To be deliriously happy without watching the tick-tock of the clock, afraid that your time for bliss had past. It has not. You deserve to feel joy, wonder, love and laughter until your heart beat’s quiet. All I ever wanted was to see you smile wide and large, for

Chasing the Sun

Chasing the Sun Don’t look down at your feet The answers won’t magically appear On some tiny telephone screen with videos buzzing megabytes and wasted seconds A billion unknown faces The unfamiliar bizarre millennium Scrolling fast and furious Thunderstorms and lightening threaten Look up and out and dig deep Go ahead look all around I dare you Eyes closed Lift your face to the sky and cry Right into the

Women Who Shape Us

She won’t hesitate to call out a bully, misanthrope or liar She will stand tall, pull her shoulders back while sobbing, heaving hysterical for the plight of another She’ll dance crazed and belt out a tune just to hear the stereo beat and guitar riffs and drum solo She will love a man or a woman on a whim from a sweet smile and soft whispers She’s unafraid to get

SHE.

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    

Looking Glass and The Windowpane

Sooner or later, I’m going to want to play the parts. I’ll be mother, daughter, sister, friend, lover, and feminist right on time. I’ll want to write the appropriate words that answer the meaningful questions. I’ll get the joke. I’ll laugh out loud without bringing my hands up to cover my face. I am timeless, ageless and the perfect temperature. I will not grimace at the sight of a beautiful