Why you going so fast?
Where you gotta go?
Who you gotta see?
My hair tied up,
Tears on the rim of my doe shaped eyes,
My cheeks red,
Bags from not sleeping.
Do you have somewhere to be?
Somewhere important?
Not with me?
I sit with my legs crossed,
My breaths quick and short,
My hands trembling,
My heart thumping at the thought of you leaving me.
Where do you have to be?
Which one is next?
The blonde or the brunette?
Where do you have to be?
Irrationality in your veins,
Your love for me never the same.
Your heart not in the same place as your brain,
And somehow,
You could refrain.
So tell me,
Why must you go so fast?
Why pack your bags?
Where are you going to lay your head if it's not next to mine?
Where are you going to be loved?
Who's going to love you like me?
I asked these questions until you finally said,
"Somewhere away",
But I knew that,
that somewhere didn't include
me,
And I'll let you know,
A white woman can have your sorry ass.
YOU ARE READING
Woman.
PoetryA book of poems and feelings. A book from a girl, a rose from the concrete. A Woman growing.
