(no one): “Okay, so, lemme get this straight? She cooks … bakes … sews … sculpts … paints … rolls muscle on a stick … can change her own oil, tires, and wheels … can rock a pair of kitten heels like NOBODY’S effing business one day and a machine gun the frigging next … and she’s smart, kind, caring, compassionate, and extraordinarily beautiful? Yah, right!”
Umm, YAH! RIGHT!
… but why would we wanna blend in when we are drenched in gold? Never far … never out of reach … the embers in the dark lay quiet … burning just beneath. Isolated … complicated … girl, we found a way to make it out ALIVEA (and not feel so alone)! These days, when I look at you, I see that you’re just like me … a misfit runaway with gold plating underneath. I love you, Gia, and literally couldn’t be any prouder to call you “daughter” if I tried.
(“Never Ordinary“)
No, she really wasn’t ever ordinary. Through the darkest nights, she was born to shine but, but truth being told, “when I look at her” I see that she’s really not just like me. She’s “Me 5.0”! All the best parts of me burn through her even harder and brighter than can possibly be put into words. Lol! I’ve always said that someday when I grow up I hope to be more like her and less like me, but let’s face it – I am who I am – it is what it is – and “growing up” just isn’t on my short list. For now, I’ll just be her crazy Peter Pan momma, flitting about happily in my own little world in the tailwind of her stardust.
The Diary Of My Perfection 