Whore?

    I wrote this to see what it would be like in a girl's position,
       one who has been discriminated because of what she is going through.
 
 
You call me this and that,
a whore without any sense and
yet you can't look in the mirror to see that your an ugly ass bitch.
I inhale my addiction, yet repeatedly speaking nothing but sickness. I
hear my inter mutant, this vale vessel just trying to learn some new tricks.
Picture yourself being someone in my shoes,
a virgin trying to figure out her structure without a manual leading to her instructing.  
 
No, I screamed to myself in the classroom,
as the embarrassment spreads like an affection.
This tainted DNA runs between my legs, as if it was taboo.
The very first of my age, alone in the moment, 
I'm just thirteen; why me I screamed?
I yelled ludacris at the wall until it expired its components.
Yet in my position not even a mastermind genius could figure out a solution. 
 
Then came the fire alarm,
magically time paused for seconds and
then came another bang right after it.
Ringing, the shaking sound of fear,
the intoxicated noise sooth my pain and then again shook my brain.
The fragments of dust flow pass me,
as the floor erupted and shattered my frame.
The massive effect of sound that came,
they ran in shame as there was no blame to give;
yet I heaved in my moment of weakness and
it was ripped away from me in silence.
Life must has been to great to me because my weakness became my fear and
my fear became my weakness, almost in the sight of a beast breaking;
a creature exposing its deepest dark secrets.
 
Then came my flash point of my existence,
a signal misplacement of music; the odder of my undoing. 
I fell over a cd in front of all to see;
as the DNA ran down my thighs, then my knees,
and last my legs straight down to my feet.
As they laughed and laughed,
they judged me without any class nor a court in my favor.
How dare that teacher applaud,
he sickens me with that neon lights he so calls a car.
Yet then the rage inside of me broke free, an innocent child pure in power,
a monster they feared, and yet a beautiful creature they just couldn't seem to see. 
 
That's the day I realized I was something more than a girl coming of age.
I was a thirteen year old witch, something they have never seen.
The magically abilities that linger at the tip of my finger,
I'm like a beacon that's just waiting to be seeking.
Yet forsaken that they thought they knew me,
as one girl screamed my name, Carrie!
Yet right there in that very moment my weakness became my strength,
my fear became my hint, 
and my becoming of age was my significant empowerment from within.
 

Comments

savigirl14

First of all thanks for all the comments especially the growing up one bc I'm only a freshman so I have quite a bit to do haha...also I really like this poem. Its cool to see that people know how to empathize bc I have been called a whore and it hurt so keep writing

Mafi Grey

I love helping others, it's the only way you can really learn. Thanks for the comment and I know it sucks to be called a whore when your not one. 

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

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