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Literature Text
I want those heels.
I want to be that girl
who wears sky-high stilettos
and a little black dress.
I want to be that girl
who makes people break their necks,
just trying to catch a glimpse.
I want to be that girl
who has men lined up,
competing for her attention.
But I'm not.
I'm that girl who rocks Chuck Taylors.
I'm that girl who can never have enough
ink in her skin.
I'm that girl who doesn't fake tan.
When I go out,
I pray that just for one night
I can be that drop-dead gorgeous girl
and impress someone with my lean muscle,
my over-done make up,
and my drunk demeanor
But everyone knows
I'm faking.
Why do I even care?
I hate that girl
who acts stupid to be attractive.
I hate that girl
who sacrifices her dignity
to maintain her reputation.
I hate that girl
who only buys designer bags.
I hate that girl
who manipulates people like dolls.
I'm not that girl.
So why do I still want to be her?
I want to be that girl
who wears sky-high stilettos
and a little black dress.
I want to be that girl
who makes people break their necks,
just trying to catch a glimpse.
I want to be that girl
who has men lined up,
competing for her attention.
But I'm not.
I'm that girl who rocks Chuck Taylors.
I'm that girl who can never have enough
ink in her skin.
I'm that girl who doesn't fake tan.
When I go out,
I pray that just for one night
I can be that drop-dead gorgeous girl
and impress someone with my lean muscle,
my over-done make up,
and my drunk demeanor
But everyone knows
I'm faking.
Why do I even care?
I hate that girl
who acts stupid to be attractive.
I hate that girl
who sacrifices her dignity
to maintain her reputation.
I hate that girl
who only buys designer bags.
I hate that girl
who manipulates people like dolls.
I'm not that girl.
So why do I still want to be her?
Literature
about a girl
colorblind,
though not the sort to confuse reds with greens, no.
myriads of greys smoke out a hushed world
& the newborn moon bleeds black
remember being so
effectable-
the type to stiffen & yelp
at a single needle, at a single lie
o u t o f p l a c e .
steeled.
now.
though neither in blade nor jaw
that storm denatured me-
warped and rusted
side-stepped
fragile
thin-veined
unworthy
growing out of this ill-fitting s k i n
to be comfortable, to be home, to be
furthest
from
here
Literature
Just a girl
He's just a guy!
Why worry, sigh?...
I'm just a girl;
Maybe that's why.
Literature
that girl was me.
i once knew a girl
whose mind soared on paper
airplanes that never want to
come down.
she wrote poetry
on the insides of her
delicate wrists
just to remind herself that
words could still be
beautiful
and
she spent her afternoons
folding paper stars
because she knew it was
the closest she'd ever get
to the real things.
-
i once knew a girl
whose best friends were
a goldfish, a praying
mantis, and a black cat.
she kept them
in her treehouse - away
from society and superstitions
and everything
that can hurt them.
don't worry, she said.
you're safe in here. no, you're
better off here because
you know, nowhere
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We all know "that girl."
Comments please! This is another piece I'm iffy about.
Comments please! This is another piece I'm iffy about.
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Comments24
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This is so true! It brings joy to my heart and tears to my eyes that someone "understands" this!