stay pretty even when tears dropped this ugly
I'm not crying,
I'm melancholic
Don't call it denial
I don't drag
I let the time pass
Don't call it missed opportunity
Adela released a song today
A prima ballerina who said,
"The baddest bitches ain't in L.A."
They're somewhere around the corner
How does the baddest bitch cry?
Like a baddie she ought to be looking good
Self-assured, not shaking, unwavering
If she ever built her dollhouse, combed her Barbie,
And dress up her doll like a darling
Girlhood come and go, some time it resurfaces,
Some might find things scrappy it looses lustre
It reached young womanhood to understand menstrual pain
Cycle it through, endure every month and society expects you to,
Always be a homemaker, earn a little longer and later don't become a spinster
You pitiful leftover
When the prime of the years had taken its toll
And I earned my first pay,
I no longer sought my girlhood's vanity
Except a bank account
It was replaced by a pompous pride
Tell those who will look at my way
If it's a male gaze
You get out of my sight
Move, boy bitches, this is my lane
Shut up, losers, don't ever come near my orbit
If you know you're not worth it
I don't bother with bullshit
I never took interest next to an insecure bit
I'd rather be a hypocrite
Than a pathetic figure with a convoluted ego
But maybe I am, no one has just told me so
Ah, such is life
Stay pretty, mirror
Even when your tears reveal what's ugly
Reaching out for validation
But smite hard by judgement
And you're left to build the ashes
When you chose to burn bridges,
You never flee, but face things everyday
Staleness and stagnation, my common muse
Lies that never left the sight
Even if it blurs the eyes
[Incomplete. Work in Progress]
