Look at her go,
how does she bare it,
everything is showing,
Just out there.
and strangely, no fear.
A receptacle, for whatever is thrown her way,
a sponge, soaking up everything around her,
blank pages, filling themselves with our words and actions.
Fearless, and open.
Her heart on her sleeve,
tears just waiting for a reason to fall,
sad tears, happy tears, it hardly matters.
No walls surrounding her soul and definitely not her ego,
wildflowers up to her ears inviting everyone in for coffee around a fire.
Feel my presence, she says.
Know my existence by the touch of my skin,
Acknowledge my thoughts bouncing around in your own brain,
open your heart and accept the notions of others in the way that I can,
take in your hand, the hand of another,
embrace your own self,
so that you can accept more than just what you think you deserve.