Looking out her window seal, she smiles in the faint sunlight, oblivious the world around her.
While other hear screaming, she hears the birds. While some see flames, she sees everyday life. Where strangers stand and judge, she feels only commonness.
It wasn't until she was older did she then realize that her normal life was on fire, and the ashes were choking her to death.
Maybe because that it went on for so long she didn't mind the choking pain, what if she enjoyed it? Perhaps that's why she even began calling her boyfriend's daddy at 12 years old.
Now people looked at her dazed self, with pity as she flounced down her street with dark lipstick, eye shadow and clothes at 12 years old. 12 years old with bruises on her knuckles, scrapes on her knees. 12 years old with new cuts down her arms, cigarettes hidden in her boots, herb too. 12 years old and dying to live but living to die every second.
So one day she asked the friends she found alone in her room at night
"What if I didn't have to? (Live)"
Those were the freezing months when she discovered what cuts felt like, the pictures that they painted. How she realized what sex truly and really was. The way true heartbreak felt and how to be the true essence of a hoe. She began to understand what her life really was, how in the burning & destruction all around her, that even embers can dance.
How beauty can kill, and how to kill for beauty.
She began realizing she was different from everything and everyone where she was at
Naturally she moved, to somewhere that's green, maybe better.
Fucking moron
She then realized how life is pain. How society really works, the way wounds sting. The style of judging small minded eyes. Bigots by design because "their mommies and daddies knew the people" or "were the people".
She fought with pain, deception, greed, lies, abuse, self pity. But oh she made it even though she struggled through it all. Her only friends were the Friday night relievers. Which seemed eternally varying, hm.
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Composed from the mind of the knowing,
Part One;
Twelve
Pansexuwhales® 2017
YOU ARE READING
"fairytale slut"
PoetryShe never enjoyed the idea of a true love, because out of the millions of people in the world, how could there be one perfect person for her? She couldn't wrap her head around it. See, at the age she realized this, most girls her age wanted to b...
