Whore?

by Mafi Grey

March 10, 2014

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.

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Mafi Grey

I went through a lot of hard life situations, but it never stopped me from trying to make something of myself. Currently, I'm following my dream to become a chef and on the side is the passion I hold deep for poetry. I hope you enjoy my art and my poems. Oh, just one more thing, please comment as much as you can. It motivates me to write, when I have an audience behind me. Also, It really shows when a person responds to my quotes or poems can make you feel that special feeling saying you really can do what you can do. I mean it's like a painter who puts his new work in the gallery for display for all to see, and then turns around to see 10 to 20 people standing around trying to figure out his inspiration, his thoughts, and what lead him there? I love when a person understands me and when their trying to dissect my thoughts. Also, when my work of art can help others cope with their monsters and to help a person become inspired. Thanks a lot. I grew up without a father, but that never stop me from becoming a man; yet I thought life would be easy but it wasn't. The pain that I grew up with was hard, but the thought that grew with inside me was even harder. Could I be a good father, could I contain the pain; could I even forget or could I be something better than what he tried to be. Before I knew it, I woke up a man with pain in his knees, with hair on his face; even with sweat, tears, and blood on his sleeves. The lost of hair, the responsibility of having faith in you and where I worked my hands far pass there capabilities. I believe that I'm a pretty fine man and that one day that I will love my children as mush as my father and mother did... Me and my friend has a group, he does music, rap, making beats, and videos. I help out there and here for the music, raps, and videos. I used to rap myself and we go way back. I join the team and he wants me to lead the poetry side and I agreed. If anyone wants to join, then email me at [email protected] and I'll see what you got. Check out my page: https://www.facebook.com/MafiThePoet

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Comments (3)

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk GudaMay 11, 2016

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

Mafi GreyMay 10, 2014

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.

savigirl14May 9, 2014

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

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