One Cup of Men and a Fountain of Confidence
One Cup of Men and a Fountain of Confidence
Yanking my hair out with the comfort of mother’s brush
because my hair would not sit or flow correctly
Trying to be beautiful
A woman
A real live beautiful woman
Sneaking into the drawer under mother’s vanity
when she was out on the town with her charming man
Trying to be beautiful
A woman
A woman with a strong, beautiful man
Stuffing socks into the bra that was not yet filled
while walking to the bus stop on the way to school
Trying to be beautiful
A woman
A woman with an ample chest and many eyes
Agreeing to go down on a boy I just met
so I could get attention from the opposite sex
Trying to be beautiful
A woman
A woman lusted after by many men
Going to the store to buy only vodka, diet soda, and two pairs of nylons
For a night on the town
Trying to be beautiful
A woman
A woman drunk and slenderized in order to seduce the many men
It is time I put my womanhood into perspective
Beauty is the confidence that you find within
Not the confidence you gain from putting down your fellow sisters and sinners
It is not the hair on your head, beautiful face,the gift of blowjobs, or a slender waist
I am beautiful, I am woman, and I shall not measure my confidence in men.
Kid: How cute, you bought me a beer?
Me: How cute….you’re wearing way too much Axe.
Kid: I thought girls liked the smell?
I cannot imagine why everyone finds Fifty Shades of Grey so appalling, granted I am only about thirty pages in. However, I would not have picked it up it if didn’t want disturbing images running through my head prior to reading, during reading, and after reading it. Here’s to wishing for words that make me want to vomit and an unforeskin lust for my man to be disgusting.
How Adorably 20 of I.
I wrote this a while back when times were just a little tough. It sure is nice to reflect once in a while and notice that nothing ever actually changes. I guess I am still on track.
Good Grace
10/09/2009
Good graces
harsh faces
broken boundaries
tough stints
crappy day job
endless hours
Private roads lead to dead ends, with speed bumps after every tire roll,
Didn’t ok it, but I’ll smile and take it cause life has a peculiar sense of humor,
Isn’t it funny?
Didn’t you giggle?
Aren’t you all rounded up and baffled in all your own personal love affairs?
Anger is pointless if it’s a closed book affair,
Can’t get mad at the man up above
At the fork I took a right, apparently there were no outlets in sight,
I’m refusing to give in, I’m refusing to put out,
so I’ll follow my intuition in hopes of getting out, out of this spell draped above me,
careful, careful.
no creases.
My getaway car isn’t much, four tires, a steering wheel, beat up frame with a full trunk,
But it goes fast, is efficient, and has a pair of damaged butterfly wings,
much like me.
I jump in put the windows down, my hair flowing long and blowing in the wind,
My problems spiral out and new ones come tumbling in,
I grasp the wheel, hold on tight, and strain to keep my eyes open wide, for if I don’t my Mother will say you hit that tree because we all have destinies,
I will survive in the end, against all odds,
I see the future, the future in my sequel.
I’m not getting out easy, I’m not getting out fast, I’m a mack truck with a full tank of gas and a pesky blow out,
After my trek on the long bumpy road, I’ll end with few scratches, brand new tires, and an empty tank,
In the end we’re all worn down with stories to tell, lessons to teach.
Succumb
Succumb
Succumb
You, young adult.
