Posted in Poetry, Rant

She’s Such A Slut (oh my god)

Today, a boy came

Up to me and told me

One of my best friends

Was a slut.

I don’t think I’ll ever

Talk to him again.

She’s a smart, funny,

Amazing, sociable person;

But the one thing he notices,

The one thing he brings to

My attention as if I care:

She’s a slut.

It makes me wonder,

It truly does, how just about

Everyone thinks it’s okay to

Make other’s private matters,

Their business. No, you don’t

Have the right to create an

Opinion on something that

Doesn’t affect you and hurts

Someone else in the process.

No one realizes how much it

Hurts someone when their

Friends, the people they thought

They could trust, whisper

Behind their back, and sometimes

In front of their face: she’s such a

Slut, oh my god.

And it’s funny, it truly is,

How when a guy dates a lot of

Girls: he’s such a player, woah,

Mad, how’s he do that, shit,

Congrats.

But hey, when a girl just even

Talks to a lot of guys, it’s all:

She’s such a slut, what the fuck,

She’s banged three guys this

Week, can you believe it?

No, you don’t have the right

To label someone without

Knowing anything about them,

And what if she banged three guys

In a week, how’s that affecting you?

Maybe it was one, maybe five,

Why is it any of your business to

Poke your nose into?

Don’t look at someone and only

See their sexual matters. They’re

More than make out sessions

And blow jobs. You’re more than

Bitching and nosiness. Aren’t you?

 

 

 

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Posted in Poetry

Great Love Story 

I want you

To be my


Great Love Story



(And all the other clichés.)



I want you to be


My One that could’ve,


Should’ve left but didn’t.



(Thank you for staying.)



People will say,


“Fifty years? And


They’re still in love?”



(You’ve got me thinking about the future.)(I didn’t think I could.)



Love me now,


Love me then,


Love me forever.



(Just love me.)



If we broke up?


I’d miss your kisses


And your laugh.



(And the both of them together.)



Please don’t go away.


I’d be sad and I don’t


want to be sad anymore.



(You make me happy.)



You promised you wouldn’t


Let me fall and yet,


I managed to do just that.



(And I’m still falling.)(Please catch me.)



Love used to feel


Complicated, I was


Terrified.



(I’m not scared anymore.)(I love you.)



When I listen to


Love songs, I see


Your hands.



(Your face. Your smile. Your eyes. You.)



If I said that I


Want to marry you,


What would you say?



(Are you saying you want to marry me?)



We’re not gonna last,


You know it and so do I


We’ll go our own ways.



(I hope our paths will cross again.)



And sure, I’ll be sad when


There’s no other


Alternative than goodbye.



(Ha, sad. Understatement of the year.)



You aren’t going to be


My forever but at least


You’ll be my something.



(And that’s more than I can ask for.)



I want you


To be my


Great Love Story.



(One day, I’m gonna have a life without you.)(I hope that day never comes.)



(Credits to Rev for being head over heels in love.) 

Posted in Poetry

Their Daughter 

What if they

Cried when

I was born?


What if they


Weren’t only


Tears of joy?




What if they


Were tears


For their


Daughter


Who should


Have been


There to


Smile at


Her new


Sister.




For their


Daughter


Who should


Have been


There to


Hold her


Hand and


Giggle about


How small


It is.




For their


Daughter


Who should


Have been


There.




For their


Daughter.


May 8, 1998 to July 29, 2001.

Miss you, di.

Posted in Poetry

Tired Girls 

They’d play silly games,

Their eyes shining,

Knees scratched from

A day in the sand box.

Smiles for everyone

And lo, some more.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.
Tag and hide and seek,

Duck duck goose.

Shouts of glee and

Screams — “You’re it!”

Picnics with ice cream,

Pizza and barbecue.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.

 

Backyard games and

Hysterical laughter;

Whispered promises:

“I won’t tell anyone.”

And then telling

Everyone by mistake.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.

 

Broken legs, sighs,

Sweat and tears;

Talking about

Everything and nothing.

Easter egg hunts,

Drive in movies.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.

 

Visits to the library,

Smelling the books.

Playing with magnets

And marbles and stones:

“Here, catch this! Oh no!

I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.

Posted in Poetry, Rant

afraid

Afraid

I don’t have a

Road to follow.

 

Afraid

I’m never

Good enough.

 

Afraid

I’m not

Passionate enough.

 

Afraid

I might be

Losing my mind.

 

Afraid

To lose

My way.

 

Afraid

To be ridiculed

For how I look.

 

Afraid

I’ll drown in

My thoughts.

 

Afraid

I won’t be

Okay alone.

 

Afraid

I can’t take

Care of myself.

 

Afraid

No one will

Love me.

 

Afraid

I don’t have

Enough talent.

 

 

Afraid

I’ll never love

Who I am.

 

Inspired by one of my favourite bloggers, Ivy.