modeling is something i always wanted to do since i was a little girl an im into a lot of different styles so no im not a picky person when it come to my attire.


Behind the MAC foundation and passion fruit flavored lip gloss there is a girl..
34 Cs, VOLUPTUOUS, thick hips, small waist, curves in all the right place.
Smooth mocha skin, with the eyes of an angle, 5'6 inches of sheer aphrodisiac..

BAD.
Accustomed to the head turns and envious stares she receives as she passes by,
Most woman would love the attention, rouse in the excitement, but she cant help but cry.
Few know anything about her, but solely because of the Manolo pumps & Chanel bag she chooses to wear,
She's labeled.
Because no woman could simply look that good, & dress that fly without help from some man, some guy.

ADDICTIVE.
All she's ever known is the appraisals of sultry men, hot on her tail, in heat for her nectar.
She's grown favor to it. The chase is what she knows best..
After all, if you've only been fed sugar, how would you know what spice tastes like?
Blinded by the constant feeding of her ego, she fails to realize that she has more of a purpose on this world than becoming one's.. PERSONAL, purpose.
For she is a WOMAN, provider of the world, the giver of innocence.

POWERFUL.
She bares the gates of heaven between her thighs,
Sweet serenity, but she constantly allows hell's whispers to entice her mind.
Desire and bliss..
She has a choice to which,
its as easy as a switch or her hips, a flip of her hair, a lick of her lips
Enticing she is, she knows what she's doing,
She figures if good looks is all God blessed her with, whats the harm in using 'em for her brewing.
She can have it all. No worries.
Money, cars, and clothes..

SPOILED.
Manipulation is her weapon of choice.
The trigger pulled confidently with the sound of her voice.
She knows the game well, a little wink here, a small stroke there, a penetrating stare,
they're bound to fall for the spell.

UNTAMED.
No father in her life to ever worship her TRUE beauty,
to explain the ways of these pirates of men & their chase for "the booty".
So along she goes, a lost needle in a hay stack.
With no IDEA the pain she's bringing onto her lap.

ACCEPTED.
In a world that never frets the idea of personal gain,
using what you've got to get what you want,
They're to blame.
The media, her peers, her elders, them all..
Some help was needed there, before her permanent fall.
She needed personal guidance, for SOMEONE to care,
Someone to step up and scream "This isn't right!",
someone with dare.

DAMAGED.
Used and abused, over & over & over again,
Time after time, for nickels & dimes,
For material things, that the world brings,
For acceptance, when all that was brought was rejection.
She's never had a real boyfriend, never been told that she's loved,
Often she feels as if her feet have been pulled fast from under the rug.
Trapped, in this beautiful body men crave and adore..
Used for seuxual release, when she's worth SO much more.

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