Whole.
I am not exceptional
In any way, shape, or form. I am not exceptional.
I am the exception.
Girls are full of soft skin, gentle touches, and eyes filled with a dewy, starry love. There touch is like silk against unfinished stone, and their smiles are diamonds inside daisies.
Boys are wilder, rougher. They’re hands slip down my skin like new leather, they’re gazes intense like a star being born, and they’re breath is a hot storm on my neck.
They hurt my eyes, and burn my skin. I am the exception
I want the hands that touch me to be my own.
The fire in my heart burns to finish something extraordinary, not finish doing you. I do not crave love, I crave accomplishment. I crave the fight.
I am your exception.
There is an old legend, that once humans were born together, 4 arms, 4 legs, 1 whole complete soul
But one day a god split them in two,
torn right through,
and now they travel the Earth to find their love
There missing half
But what if he missed me? I am not broken I am bruised
Bruised by the words of those around me
I am the exception
To your rules
I am the exception to your love
and I am not broken
I am whole.










