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Rated: GC · Poetry · Other · #2219816
A little anger mixed with grief. i'm good.
You can asume all you want about me.
I'm not what anyone thinks.
At first glance most say intimidating.
I can't even make that impression in the morror on a good day.
Yet here we are assuming.
More.
Who am I?
Well for one I am not yours.
I am not some amusing delight.
I'm not a girl who visits men late at night.
I don't love myself like a picture might say.
That's just photo 149 on a decent confidencee day.
My mom took 34 years to say "You're pretty"
If you think that didn't carry through life,
Then you don't know gritty.
I didn't grow up with a Mom and a Dad.
Just a witch, a group home and a bad part of the city.
But please assume I'm just a walking pair of titties.
A girl with no brain, no goals or dreams.
Just another soul-less twat like yourself tearing at the seams.
Stop assuming the worst.
Stop assuming at all.
Mind your fucking business.
Or go paint the city walls.
Just stay the fuck away from me.
I'm not that girl.
I'm not ALL pretty.


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