she broke into this world a storm wrapped in pink blankets the daughter that borrowed my eyes my temper my frown my tendency to stand at the edge of shadows
what else could we do but spark?
squarin up over nothin and everythin we catch fire the same way quiet and hot both refusin to bend or break same flush in our cheeks
I still see her as four hands on her hips determination set in the corners of her mouth small voice deliverin judgement speakin fluently in...