I Don't F**k With You

I am not *just* your wine girl.
I am not a dying flower in your goddamned garden that needs dead-headed.
I am not just my figure, or my toned arms (though both are exceptional - I know).
I am not rude.
I am not just a loud energy you can't avoid.
I am not just a wife or a recovering adulteress.
I am not just the friend who suffers with depression.
I am not a gardener,
but I am a nurturer.

I am a writer -- a poet, to be precise. I am thoughtful and quite hospitable; someone has described me, even, as having a small town charm. I can navigate social situations with ease - avoiding awkward interactions with grace and making people feel comfortable are my specialities. With that said, I can also destroy you with just a few moves - strike that - with just a few words. I can be rowdy and reckless with your feelings, but only if I'm reciprocating. I am part hillbilly girl and sometimes she claws to get out. I am goddamned gorgeous, but that isn't it. I'm smart, too, you know? And passionate about a few things that could change the world if more people gave them the acknowledgement they deserve.

If we are friends: I'm tenacious about your feelings. If we aren't friends: I'm considerate and gentle. I can be rabid if you offend the sentiments of the people I care about. I know just what to do when emergencies happen -- all kinds of tragedies. I am familiar with birds and some trees and with geography. I can maneuver Indiana country roads with a crazy finesse. I am a hard worker -- I am an emotional worker. Nothing I do gets done without elbow grease and a tiny piece of my heart. I am a wife to a gracious, handsome man. I am mother to two beautiful kittens. And to succulents I'm trying not to kill.

So, let me tell you this: I am so much more than YOUR WINE GIRL. Limiting me exhibits more about your character than mine.