She’s Gotta Have It

She doesn’t ask for permission— She *takes* up space, like the moon takes up the night, like paint claims a blank canvas and makes it unforgettable. She’s jazz on a Tuesday, black coffee at midnight, a walking contradiction who somehow makes it all make sense. Soft enough to break your silence, strong enough to leave your ego in pieces. She wants love, but not in a cage. She wants truth, but not at the cost of her own. And if desire knocks at her door— she answers, wearing confidence like red lipstick and no apologies. See, she’s gotta have it— not *him*, not *them*, but the fire, the freedom, the art of being fully… herself. And if you can’t handle that? She won’t wait. She *won’t* shrink. She’ll just pivot—gracefully— and keep moving like poetry with hips. Because she’s not here to be claimed. She’s here to *create*. To live. To want without shame. To be wanted without chains. *— Written by Timrika*