To All the Pretty Girls in Passenger Seats (a poem for the ones who finally said "fuck yes" to themselves)

To all the pretty girls in passenger seats
I hope you see that you are the prize.

That your soft eyes and tender touch
come without a price tag—at least not one they can afford.

The way you dress, the perfume you wear,
you are a dream, come alive.

The world may spit harsh words,
but remember: you are out of this world.

You are a home that survived hurricanes,
rebuilt on bricks of determination and mortar of salty tears.