Bottled Minxes'

At a horizons glare only the sun breaches the surface. Widening amongst the stretch of unforeseen depth to come. Wavering through life the sun comes across and sets on a minxes'. Why does the minx cry so loud that it deafens hearts and breaks emotions? For the minx has so much contained that it can only release pain to maintain. This pain is gained over the consecutive years it trained to release its skin to be seen born again. Well that's not an easy task to overcome for the minx has so much more unsung. She rises like the sun ready to take the world by surprise, but wait there's a flock of birds bombarding the skies. Casting a shadow for a moment’s time, but can you believe that's what brought tears that leaves the minx to cry. Every day is anew in the world of the minx, just trying to make it aiming to overcome only to over think. From the glass the minx drinks, but it’s not as simple as you think. The minx never pours her own drinks; for she doesn't even prep her own meals. The only thing the minx is able to control is the size of her dress laid out and the size of her heels. The cries that escape the minx has damned so many she meets. Do they even know that that minx barely eats? Wondering effortlessly from sunrise to sun down the minx has seen every side of a town. For she rises with vigor, yet rest in anger. I sometimes wonder why the minx gives so much credit to an avid stranger. You see the minx has instinct on solely surviving. Minxes never told anyone where it is she goes when she does the most hiding. Open to opportunities but not to emotions it just seems like the minxes is just a record scratched now broken. OH! Beautiful minx will you share your pain for this is a journey bared in vain. Release the old scars and come from beneath the horizon for this year the great minxes is surely arising. The arms reach wide and far on the old wooden clock, but that leaves no room for the minxes to stop. She coveted her time, space, and words. Long ago the minxes only spoke in slurs. You can come bearing gifts or even a house. From where the minx stands there seems to be no way out. As the tide rises so does the minx chaining things to the to-do list as the sun sinks. Racing the set of the sun as if there's glory to be one the minx has so much more to get done. For the minx isn't alone she has always had a litter. The sons of the minx is what drives her to never become a quitter. Wondering why the minx is so sealed I'll never question those endeavors. I only wish for the minx to avoid the rainiest weather. Special is the pain of a minx so much so that it drains the sphinx. The soul proprietor of this verse can you unify how diverse. Deep in to the vessel of I pray the return of the minxes lost love. A deep and trailing road to trail there will be justice a ringing bell. Where do the tears that trail thy face land upon on your dark days. Shed the skin oh minxes please I yarn for your silent breeze. A rhetoric deep in solitude but was it worth all you can lose. Ignite the heap of spoils that lay amongst the road that trails your way. For this day comes to no surprise, my soul wishes that you arrive. Claiming what was yours all along. There should be no place that you belong. For the universe is yours to walk as one would say you've walked the walk. Now speak aloud let them hear your pain there's much in store for us to gain. For minxes aren't a lost cause they to do grow, but would you allow them a chance to grow. The days are young and growing thin. I often feel the minxes skin.