Unfolding

I see her every day

In my thoughts, as I lay

On my bed to fall asleep

And doze off into depths so deep.

I see her every day

In the mirror plain—

Her eyes so deep and bright,

Flooding with passion and might.

Oh, her skin so rough,

Yet strong like a Manila bluff.

But this, none know:

That she, deep down below,

Craves what every girl once wanted

But always felt misled—haunted.

She was told to smile,

To play nice, stay mild.

Told that tenderness was her power—

But punished when it showed.

Now she rises, slow but steady,

No longer waiting — she’s ready.

She’s fire stitched into quiet grace,

A thunderstorm with a fearless face.

She is not the girl they planned.

She is the woman she understands.

Not made to shrink or disappear—

But to win the race.

To set the pace.

And own her place.