everyone talks about the "cool girl".
the "cool girl".
she comes into class, with
her messy journal, her
eyeliner, her beanie and her
cool hair
her buttons on her bag,
the bands on her shirt (that she actually listens to)
she's the "cool girl" , the "mysterious girl"
he sits and wonders while
staring at her
she's left handed!
wonder what's in that journal of hers...
wonder if the boyfriend
on her screen knows
how "cool" and "mysterious"
she really is
wonder what songs she sings
wonder what books she reads
wonder...
I'll tell you something, though.
I'm not your fucking "cool girl".
I'm not here to sit and be wondered about.
the mysterious scribbles
to you, are trivial.
they're trials and tribulations to me.
I'm not a mystery to be solved.
I'm not a prize to be won at the end
of your one-sided fantasy.
I'm not a chase.
I'm not a dreamy escape.
I'm not your "concept".
I'm not your fucking manic pixie dream girl,
I'm not a chameleon, the damsel in distress waiting
to be fixed.
I was not put on this planet
to solely motivate your
character development.
the moment you give that up,
the moment you snap out of your
projections onto a false reality, the
moment you will finally get
a true reciprocated promise
of a dream you won't be able to
wake up from.
