“Cherry Girl”
They don’t know what it takes to be sweet and still standing.
To wear red, not for show, but because life has kissed you too hard. and you kept the color.
I’m not just soft, I’m cherry soft. Thin-skinned. Easily bruised. Not broken, but marked.
Touched, changed, hurt maybe, and yet still here.
I’ve been picked too soon, held too tight, bit into by people who never asked if I was ready.
But I stayed sweet. Even when I split. Even when I spilled. Even when the world thought I was only good for the taste.
I am not the stem, not the stone, not the hand that took. I am the cherry. and I’m still mine.













