Look at me.
Can you tell just by looking? Or do you need to look deep inside my soul to see it.
I'm a bitch.
In everything I do, every breath I breathe, I'm a bitch.
Every fibre of me screams bitch.
Do you smell that? Bitch.
Do you hear that? Bitch.
Do you see her? Bitch.
Why?
Who knows, it's what her mom said. Her friends, siblings, enemies, the works.
They all see it.
Said behind my back, to my face.
And oh, how I hate being called a bitch.
