green-eyed [jealous bitch] memoir.

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[ 11. 22. 15 ]

if colors on this spectrum were really true,
my cocoa brown eyes would show a hue
of deep green every time girls like you
decide to just go ahead and pass into my line of view
smiling and walking around all happy and shit like you know you're cute
bragging about your twenty-four inches of that indonesian silky good shit
adding insult to injury you flip it, toss it, flaunt it
(meanwhile i know good and damn well that i can't afford that shit)
raking it with acrylics that could claw up a back
(just outta spite i hope you pull out a track)
and sporting a killer wardrobe full of shit i would kill for
while you're complaining that ya moms won't buy you more
you have melons on your chest, a fat ass every nigga wanna grab...
and girls like me just wanna have
so we can treat boys like pawns too,
make them sweat and beg for a touch the way you do
and i don't know what's appealing to me about being looked at like a piece of meat
i guess it's the attention that's so sweet
on your tongue, in your ear
when that one older, fine nigga says "come here"
and after whispering candied nothings in your ear, tries to cop a feel...
i put it on everything that i hate girls like you
because how dare  you come in and exalt yourself to
queen status, feel so good about yourself
and only deepen the hate i have for myself?
blue swirls in my mind every time
bitches like you have the nerve to arrive
and i had a hard enough time trying to feel
adequate enough to allow these mental wounds to heal
but you show up and by the time you came
my sense of self was down the drain
i hate my hair, it'll never look like weave
and i walk around this way and i wanna believe
that deep down in the recesses of the  innermost, vulnerable you,
that there's some hint of insecurity in you too
(shit, i hope so.)
but i see the way you act and the answer screams no
you're not timid, you're not guarded, you're not meek
you don't cower down into yourself every fucking time you speak
not like i [feel that] i have to
i hate that you don't feel sorry for taking up space
and you glide in with ease when you enter a place
i wish i was low enough to
fill the airwaves with lies
and say "she thick now but wait till she 35"
or "she such a hoe she needs cúm to survive"
more shade on your name, onto your life!!
you know, more broke-ass, hating-ass
miserable-ass girl antics
to try and tear you down amongst chicks
but i won't
i still need to feel better than thou
and i know you have no problem talmbout
what bitch did what and what you think
about it, who fucked who cause i see
you are ugly like me, just reverse .. your type of ugly can't be seen
and besides
being as ugly on the inside as i feel outside won't do a thing
so i'll stand here, watching you with eyes that are secretly green.

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