Not MeMature

Not fair. Not fair. I sat there as a single, angry tear burned down my cheek. This couldn’t be me. No!

I am not this girl lying on the floor, half-naked. I am not this girl, seduced by a jock at a random party. I am not this girl so sixteen, so stupid to go alone with a boy.

No, No! Who me?

Not me. It couldn’t be.

But he was cute and sexy and luring. And I thought he was mine. And I was his. No, he lied. Its fun to find random naïve girls in his mind. Its fun to make them feel like shit for one night and the rest of their lives.

I wiped that tear away, searching for a belonging, my shirt, my jeans, my … something. Something that proved I was still me, the same girl.

Not fair. Not fair. The girl that walked into this dark room with Him is a different girl than the one that walked out alone, broken.

Not fair. Not fair. Not true. Not true.

Not me. It couldn’t be.

 

The End

3 comments about this poem Feed