My whole life has been a series of commands.
When I was born I was told,
Pink means girl, blue means boy,
Know the difference.
When I was five, things were made clearer
Blocks and mud were for boy.
A dollhouse is for girls, and so are dresses.
Follow the difference
When I was fourteen, I was taught to cover
My flaws, my body, my feelings
Cross your legs, bite your tongue
Believe the difference
When I was sixteen, I began to serve
Tight jeans, and short skirts
Always smile at boys, even if they’re mean
You cant make a difference
But when I was eighteen
And in your bed in June
And I woke up to your hands on my thin hips
I knew I was the difference
Because when my fist met your face
And I walked out of your room
With sore knuckles and a smile
I made a difference
And when your friends asked you,
About your black eye
You blamed it on a bar fight over me
And broke up with me at 3 PM
I laughed when I should have cried
And everyone stared
Fuck your difference
I’m not a girl. I’m not pink,
I’m not a dollhouse and a big bow.
I have fire in my veins, from years
of believing the difference.
I have blood in my mouth
From biting my tongue
and saying the right thing.
Your difference can burn in hell.
Im a monster, I’m a storm.
I can make a damn difference
In this world.
You tell me I can’t, l’ll show you I can.
I’m not scared of you anymore.
When I was seven, I was told
When you grow up, get married
Be the damsel in distress.
Let him be the knight in shining armor.
But I’m the hero of this story,
And I don’t need saving.
Growing up I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, little black box that held expensive things, and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss in the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now that I’m older I’ve realized it’s not like that at all.
See because true love for me is ugly snapchats, and peeing while you’re on the phone. True love is kissing at 6 AM despite the morning breath and singing at the top of your lungs. It’s saying all the wrong things, at all the wrong moments. It’s sarcasm and being honest even when it hurts. It’s late hours of the night when it’s been a long day and it’s no make up and bad hair. It’s tears from laughter, it’s tears from sadness and it’s nothing like any storybook you’ve ever read. It’s never running out of things to talk about, and it’s being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is watching The Titanic though you swore you never would. It’s getting mad over stupid things. It’s “you’re an idiot,” and “you’re a little shit” and knowing you’re so lucky to hear those every day. It’s spilling your feelings at 4 AM when you should be asleep. It’s that song you hear on the radio that always makes you smile. It’s the worst story you could imagine, but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True love is not leaving when things get hard.
I like my definition better anyways.”
dang girl are you my appendix because I don’t understand how you work but this feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out
That is quite possibly the weirdest and most carefully thought out pickup line I’ve ever read. I applaud you.
have you ever liked someone so much you started hating them
I’m a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind who has high standards.