whore
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“Silence” he commanded
As he slapped my frozen face
I need a meal for my stomach
I have not eaten in days
Or perhaps it has been longer
Why am I the easy one when you too, were in the act?
Why does my vagina limit me, to every single terrible thing just associated with sex?
Why can’t a girl want sex, and not be a hoe?
But he can want sex and get cheers?
Sleep around player.
Don’t be a pussy.
Grab her by the pussy.
My legs are shut,
Crossed,
And locked with my chastity belt.
Go ahead and talk you shit
see if I will care
all dem bitches spreadin shit that isn't even real
bitch, whore, fake as fuck!
you say I'm the slut??
"I sleep around" and "I'm fucking guys"
I’m laughing, smiling,
Dancing like I own the world at age seven.
Stars handpicked like strawberries for only my eyes to eat
Nothing could tear me down.
As words crawl up and out of my throat
My fingers desperate to find the right note
Heart as heavy as lead but fragile as glass
Watching the ceiling fan, waiting for it to pass
The nausea the fatigue
There is a new girl in the group
So all the girls snoop
They find out her secrets
& find out she's not so decent
Her last people kicked her out
Because she likes to "sprout"
Words so deep and enticing I can make a 30 year crack addict quit pipin'
Metaphors so colorful and bold that I can make a blind man see and spell every color in the rainbow
Family.
Such a frail fragile thing
It is a living ecosystem of aunts and uncles
Mothers and Sons, daughters and their fathers.
What becomes of this intricate unit when it is disturbed?
You make me doubt myself
Hate myself
Make me not want to believe in myself
Give me the chills
Then knock me out
I was a fighter
Now you’ve got me pinned down
Between the thoughts and the clocks
Life is a pair of black corsets, fishnet stockings and cheap lipstick,
suffering from the intoxicating riches of each breath.
and in the midst of it all is a shadowed wrong turn,
in which my legs keep gliding through air.
Teachers don’t work hard nowadays
Rather than focus on education
They focus on my grades
I may have passed your damn class
or ran the me website found
are that their pavement consciously drew ravenously myself
notepad with syringe will very its even are me whore
hung gold-tipped which if jeans preserved
the are bought to saw
I want what I be not
So busy trying to fill the gap in which
Was left
It be not his fault
My spirit be mine and not his at all
I long for pleasure and happiness in who
has what I have not
I just need to feel wanted, that's all I'd ever ask
I'm that teenage whore that you adore, the one behind the mask
You don't even have to ask me please
Because I'm already on my knees
Foolish young man
Head over heels in love
But the maiden you adore isn’t an innocent pure dove
She bats her eyes
She giggles and flirts
She’ll soften you up, and stabs your hurts when it most hurts
