known for ranting about the men who do me wrong.

Today

I don’t care enough to write about men who clearly hear beats from some other song.

Usually my posts carry at least 900 words.

Today –

Daisy , me – 37 year old, divorced and a mum with heart and

played,riffes strummed ,

duh dum!

Okay.. throw in a hum.

Thank you men who are wonderfully crazy

I’ve been their hazy daisy

Now is my time to pull back the sheets

and embrace my beauty ,my flaws without hearing insults thrown at me.

Not an easy caveat

I’m a lover ,Im’ a fighter ,I’m passionate,

I’m not a  pliable little girl.

I cry

I pick myself

I’m fierce.

A mama bear has fire

baby bear follows

in hesitant paws.

A Shrug.

My love.

My love.

My loves

are bigger than the swell of the Titanic

Meet the match you’ve stroked.

Daisy grew up.

Forever wild and passionate.

I know my worth.

I let men talk.

I let men walk.

Some men just want a woman to be who they need them to be.

Hey, I see the good –

I love the good in the men I’ve opened my heart to.

I would give my last penny or hug to someone even when I know it’s not going to work out.

Call me whatever you want .

Yes, I have a cunt.

I can bitch at times.

I’m possibly possessed ,fiery

even a witch.

No more interest in the chase – stop caring to write words about men who make less sense than my stream of consciousness works.

I’ll settle for a man who knows how to deal with grown ass women.

Flawed, beautiful , funny,weird ,crazy, dazed, Drugged ,sober , quiet , over talkative, skinny ,curvy, ill behaved, lovable, ditzy, smart -a conundrum of premium star dust.

If Men are afraid it’s because she- me knows what she wants.

run away and give way to a man I can adore.

This isn’t poetry, it ‘s me – never hide behind a front.

Daisy speaks her c’est la vie.