Sometimes she smokes cloved cigarettes, just because it looks cool.

She wears all the tattoos she�s ever wanted on her skin.

Sometimes, her skin is pale, and her hair dark as night. Where she has full cherry lips and not a trace of acne. Her teeth are pefect and tongue like smooth wet strawberry. Her kisses, cool like water.

Sometimes, her skin is caramel, and her hair like the golden sun. She likes to spread he sun kissed legs open and she lets all the men she has ever wanted in.

She throws her head back, feels good, and moans. She moans like the sound of her name, Mona.

Mona doesn�t live with regret or fear. Mona is that girl, that woman, who lives by heart and does exactly what she wants.

Without Mona, I�m a trap to all my ways. I live hunched up in a world of regret and a ``why couldn�t I have just said that, done that�� kind of way. Mona sings on and says what was done was done, be good to yourself now and live another day.

And fuck those goddamn shit movies that say live it out, fight to the end. When we�re only human.

No one deserves to be an innocent prisoner.

I tighten up my laces and march on my way.

Give me a shot of tequila and a hot taco... because today is the day.

Life, with its twisted crooks and crannies. We were made from curves. There is always room to change.