One Hell of a Woman

I am one hell of a woman,
made of the fires that threatened to consume me.
My curves are round and full,
like a well-aged wine,
brimming with the flavors that lie beneath the surface,
that entrance you if you let them linger on your tongue.
My hair shows silver
for every time I was brave, or strong, or stood up for my healing.
My hips are wide,
meant for carrying babies,
meant to be handles,
meant to steady me when my heart is weak.
I am the roundness of my stomach,
not afraid to take up space,
not afraid to dance a little.
I am my lack of a thigh gap,
proud to touch myself and find joy.
I am one hell of a woman
with ink stained fingers and tear stained cheeks.
I am more than some can handle-
Not a cup of tea,
but a shot of espresso at midnight.
I am not afraid of aging less than gracefully.
I choose to love every wrinkle in my skin,
every stumble,
every crack that catches my step.
I will dance in the flames of the bridges I burn.
I will lay on the beach in the full moon light
so the stars can mirror my shine.
I will drink down the love that surrounds me
and never be thirsty again.

A spoken word poem. Find me on tiktok, facebook, and instagram as she.writes.chaos.