Thursday, November 12, 2009

That Girl

this is a poem my friend found & i loved it. it explains how im feeling at the moment so i'll sure it w/you =)

* i stole thi off my friend who found this on youtube. its crazytrue*
That Girl
We got that waiting in the clinic silence. That shhh don’t tell nobody what we did silence and Im so tired of being your hamper that I’m about to dump out those week old stained ketchup secrets and do laundry in that silence you like keeping. But my vagina is not your walk in closet. You wanna stuff your doubts through me, wanna place to hang up you insecurities, want me to keep check of your hand me downs and Prada, waiting for every occasion to put me back behind closed doors and lock me in the darkness. Nobody knows you hold my hand and nobody knows I call you baby and nobody know you write anonymous poems about me the type you can’t post on Facebook. Because regardless of what you may think, I’m worth more than you deserve. I will never be that girl, the girl that’s only allowed to make you smile when she´s making you orgasm, that girl whose day job is daydreaming waiting for her night job. That girl who´s so in love she´ll turn her body over for your superficial touch. You hide me behind lock doors and bed sheets because if you dare reached out then everybody would still know that it was still about me. So that in your heart and in your mind your still wrapped up in me. My teardrops you own them, my hearts says you got them tied around your pencils and figures. Yea, you may say it´s over and you may never tell me that you love me but you don’t have to cause your silence speaks volume. You wanna hold me in your arms rock me to sleep then act like you don’t know me. As if the moments we spent together are some kind of down payment. As if my bedroom were lay away and that’s all you ever do is layaway roll up beside me but in the morning pull up the hoodie and run the other way. I’m like that bastard child the reason Daddy never stuck around in the first place but for me rejection doesn´t come every other weekend.. It comes when you lower your head and pass by without speaking and I remember there was a time you could barely take your eyes off me. I just don’t understand why its not okay for you to love me. I guess you just want me to be that girl. . The girl everybody wants to sleep with but nobody wants to be with. That girl who’s only good enough for finding a suitable replacement. And not trying to make up for the mistake but you try to convince yourself that she means everything and you want nothing to do with me but come on baby she looks just like me. Read the signs or at least the facial features cause I was your first, your only, the prototype and she´s just a duplicate and you can never make copies without first consulting the blueprint! You know what they say the sequel is never better than the original. And she tries to write you stories but their only half as good, so half squinting you only hold her half as tight as you should. Cause your other half is tangled between my bed sheets, and your other half is complete within my mind, soul, and body, and your other half is french tonguing me Monday through Friday. I’m not fighting for joint custody. I’m fighting for RESPECT cause I will never be content with being your back door hoe. Your something on the side, your something to do on those lonely weekends, your closet freak. You will never produce me to be a skank and a whore that will love you. I’d rather spend every night crying alone on my bedroom floor than to ever be "that girl”!

-Alysia Harris

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