Call Me Slut

twelve

Hi, they call me slut. 

And I'm tired here

of the sadness,

and the unsettling feelings of my identity,

and who they want me to me,

but not who I need to be.

I don't want to be the 'no girl'

with the world controlling her.

Hi, they call me slut.

For the reasons of my music,

of the clothes I wear to school,

of the people I know,

and the ones I've met,

and those who have given their eyes

back and forth between right and judgement.

I'm a fallen hero with the reputation of a villain.

I'm a stolen child in search for a home far far away.

I'm a song with the lyrics of a heart,

the mind of a human,

but the appearance of a slut. 

Hi, they call me slut.

I'm not okay.

I'm okay.

I'm falling apart faster than ever.

I want to go on dates without the whispers.

But it's never okay to be a slut in public...

People are ruthless forms of weapons,

and it looks like my misery is what runs them.

It's fine.

I'm fine.

It's only a word, right?

Can't hurt that bad.... right?